I lived in a penthouse in Union Square.

I see you. The penthouse is still dark.

Rich executive in the penthouse is a connoisseur of classical music.

One of those big ones, right here in my 3,200amonth penthouse apartment.

Now, to a human audience, I need to explain that if Penthouse magazine had a marine mammal edition, this would be the centerfold.

For on the surface, Lyndon Johnson should have had everything in the world to feel good about in those last years, in the sense that he had been elected to the presidency he had all the money he needed to pursue any leisure activity he wanted he owned a spacious ranch in the countryside, a penthouse in the city, sailboats, speedboats.

His goggling spectacles and ghastly bandaged face under the penthouse of his hat, came with a disagreeable suddenness out of the darkness upon one or two home going labourers, and Teddy Henfrey, tumbling out of the Scarlet Coat one night, at half past nine, was scared shamefully by the stranger's skull like head (he was walking hat in hand) lit by the sudden light of the opened inn door.