"So one is forced to suppose that a respectable middle-aged Hebrew financier either went mad between twelve and six a.m. and walked quietly out of the house in his birthday suit on a November night, or else was spirited away like the lady in the 'Ingoldsby Legends,' body and bones, leaving only a heap of crumpled clothes behind him," Chapter II, p. 20.

"Damn it all, Parker, there must be a motive somewhere. Can't have a crime without a motive, you know," Chapter III, p. 33.

"We've lost a middle aged gentleman without any clothes on Park Lane; We've found a middle-aged gentleman without any clothes on in Battersea," Chapter III, p. 39.

"I say, Parker, I think this co-operative scheme is an uncommonly good one. It's much easier to work on someone else's job than one's own—gives one that delightful feelin' of interferin' and bossin' about...