The Chinese Parrot (Charlie Chan Detective Series) — page 64: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

= "It is, indeed. Particularly when one loves this country as I do." "You were born here, perhaps?" "Oh, no. I came out with dad to Doctor Whitcomb's—it's five miles from here, just beyond the Madden ranch— some years ago. When—when dad left me I had to get a job, and—but look here, I'm telling you the story of my life.” "Why not?” asked Eden. "Women and children always confide in me. I've got such a fatherly face. By the way, this coffee is terrible." "Yes, isn't it?” she agreed. "What will you have for dessert? There are two kinds of pie—Apple, and the other's out. Make your selection.” "T've made it," he replied. "I'm taking the one that's out." He demanded his check. "Now, if you'll let me pay for your dinner—" "Nothing of the sort," she protested. "But after the way my steak attacked you.” "Forget it. I've an expense account, you know. If you say any more, I'll pay your check." Ignoring the jar of toothpicks hospitably offered by a friendly cashier, Bob Eden followed her to the street. Night had fallen; the sidewalk was deserted. On the false front of a long low building with sides of corrugated tin, 64 comiicboeoe S CO