"Not very helpful," said Wimsey. "D'you know, occasionally I think there's quite a lot to be said for women."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Well, I mean, all this crazy, uninquisitive way men have of makin' casual acquaintances is very fine and admirable and all that - but look how inconvenient it is! Here you are. You admit you've met this bloke two or three times, and all you know about him is that he is tall and thin and retired into some unspecified suburb. A woman, with the same opportunities, would have found out his address and occupation, whether he was married, how many children he had, with their names and what they did for a living, what his favorite author was, what food he liked best, the name of his tailor, dentist and bootmaker, when he knew your grandfather and what he thought of him - screeds of useful stuff!"
"So she would," said Fentiman, with a grin. "That's why I've never married."
(From The Unpleasantness At the Bellona Club, by Dorothy L. Sayers. By the way, that word "screeds" above is correct. Look it up.)
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