She Was Like The Kiss Of Death
She came around the back of the car and leaned up against me hard. Her arms went around my neck.
“I am being very foolish,” she said softly. “He will kill me for this – just as he killed Stein. Kiss me.”
I kissed her. Her lips were hot and dry. “Is he in there?”
“Kiss me again. I have not very long to live. When you are the finger for a man like that – you die young.”
I pushed her away from me, but gently.
She stepped back and lifted her right hand quickly. There was a gun in it now.
The 5th in the Philip Marlowe series
- Raymond Chandler on How to Write Detective Stories (themillions.com)