“Someone pounded on the office door. Barabas moved to the door, slid aside the metal shutter covering the narrow spy window, and looked through it.“It’s your lover man.”“Barabas, open the damn door,” Raphael snarled.Barabas slid the shutter closed. “Do you want me to let him in?”“I’m thinking about it.”Barabas slid the shutter open. “She’s thinking about it.”

“swore. “Barabas said you might say that. I’m supposed to tell you this.” Ascanio cleared his throat and produced a remarkably accurate impression of Barabas’s tenor. “Courage, Your Majesty.” “I will kill him.” “The Beast Lord or Barabas?” “Both.”

“Don't thank me,' Mr. Curtain called as the door slid closed. 'Impress me!”

“Maybe it’s not the doors that open in our lives, but the doors that close that define us. That guide us. Because they force us to move on. Instead of thinking about what we lose, look at what we can gain.”

“The door, indeed, stood open as before; but the windows were still shuttered, the chimneys breathed no stain into the bright air, there sounded abroad none of that low stir (perhaps audible rather to the ear of the spirit than to the ear of the flesh) by which a house announces and betrays its human lodgers.”

“That was close,"he said, helping himself to coffee.Yeah, you almost opened the door to Morelli."I wasn't talking about Morelli. I was talking about us."That too," I said.Ranger sliced a bagel and looked for the toaster.It's broken,"I told him.He truned the boiler on and slid the bagel into the oven.That's surprisingly domestic for a man of mystery," I said to him.He looked at me over the rim of his coffee mug. "I like things hot.”