I'd just helped Ed Hickey into a taxi. Ed had been mixing his whiskey with his rye, and I felt he needed conveying. I started to walk down the street when I heard a voice saying: 'Good evening, Mr. Dowd'. I turned, and there was this big white rabbit leaning against a lamp-post. Well, I thought nothing of that, because when you've lived in a town as long as I've lived in this one, you get used to the fact that everybody knows your name. And naturally, I went over to chat with him.
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