She grinned and finished her beer. A passing waitress was stopped with an order for two more.
"Guess that was after my time," she said with a good-natured shrug. "Or before my time," she amended. It was hard to keep it straight sometimes, and she did get tired of pretending in a conversation. Didn't usually go to the bar for talk, so a guy who asked questions instead of staring at her cleavage was a switch.
Maybe Mr. PI was one of those fancy boys. That would explain it.
"But nobody could beat Sam Spade."
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