I didn't mind what she called me, what anybody called me. But this was the room i had to live in. It was all i had in the way of a home. In it was everything that was mine, that had any association for me, any past, anything that took the place of a family. Not much : a few books, pictures, radio, chessmen, old letters, stuff like that. Nothing. Such as they were, they had all my memories.
The Big Sleep
1939
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Charles Moll
https://www.sandiegoreader.com/news/1982/mar/18/philip-marlowe-slept-here/
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