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bootlegger. His was a very popular joint right opposite the Pierre Hotel off Fifth Avenue on 61st Street--an old private house. It was the meeting place for quite a lot of literary folk, among them Frank Sullivan, who said he named his kidneys Moriarity's Annex.

Well, I stopped in there for a drink. Sullivan had nothing to do that night and said, “Do you want to have dinner with me?”

I said, “Don't disturb me, Sullivan, I have a very important date tonight. I'm going to see some dirty movies.”

And Sullivan said, “You're not going to see them without me.”

So Sullivan and I went down to this place on 22nd Street. We were late. We'd lingered a little too long at Moriarity's. And the first picture was on when we came. So we walked into a dark room. We knew there were quite a number of people that we couldn't see, and one of these filthy pictures was on. When it was over, the lights went on while the operator changed reels. They only had one machine, of course, And we saw there about 30 men, all college professors. You never saw a meeting like this in your life. It looked like a meeting to discuss the Einstein Theory. This wasn't a bunch of tramps. These were dignified college gentlemen who had turned up like ourselves out of enormous curiosity.

Was it worth it all?