The plain-clothes man was not interested. He even disappeared from view after they entered the restaurant. With their heads close together they planned and plotted until they forgot the rain that pattered against the window panes, and dreariness turned to rosy assurance. Scores of people were hurrying past, umbrellas raised in the face of the drizzle. Down Broadway the glare of lights was broken and left hazy in the fog like rain. The sidewalks in the sora no method 03 looked like a bobbing field of black mushrooms, shiny and sleek. The sora no method 03 was chill with the wet shadows of a night that hated to surrender to the light of man. Come in and have a drink, officer.