She swayed seductively to the swing of the curtains and the street-lights flashed in her sloe-black eyes and caught glints in her raven-coloured hair. “Big-Time gamblers need a girl like me,” she breathed as she danced to the song of death. “It was a Big-Time gambler who bought me this wicked dress and slinky gloves, which beats the hell out of YOUR dress, Maureen. And I don’t smoke either. Big-Time gamblers like that.” … “Well, Shirl, are you certain this is a big-time gamblers house we’re rolling over because these jewels are bloody paste and the artwork is all shit!!”
Howell Dodd’s art.
She swayed seductively to the swing of the curtains and the street-lights flashed in her sloe-black eyes and caught glints in her raven-coloured hair. “Big-Time gamblers need a girl like me,” she breathed as she danced to the song of death. “It was a Big-Time gambler who bought me this wicked dress and slinky gloves, which beats the hell out of YOUR dress, Maureen. And I don’t smoke either. Big-Time gamblers like that.” … “Well, Shirl, are you certain this is a big-time gamblers house we’re rolling over because these jewels are bloody paste and the artwork is all shit!!”