A lady cannot be blamed if a master criminal takes a fancy to her. - Elizabeth Peters

His lips parted, but long years of experience with Ramses, and to some extent, Emerson, had taught me how to turn a conversation into a monologue.

In the silence I heard Bastet, who had retreated under the bed, carrying on a mumbling, profane monologue. (If you ask how I knew it was profane, I presume you have never owned a cat.)

I do not scruple to employ mendacity and a fictitious appearance of female incompetence when the occasion demands it.