"Later, when Wolfe asked me the precise moment when the call had come, I knew, pretty much; three-fifteen, give or take. But to satisfy his need for precision (like so much of him, it was oversized), I brought up the log and read it off to him: Three-fourteen and twenty five seconds, and then the incoming call's number. He nodded and went back to his book - The Pleasures of Aristophanes, this week; he was on a Greek kick - while I went back to paying bills. The electronic ones were easy to do; the paper ones, just a little more effort, except when they didn't deign to supply us with a return envelope, meaning that someone - me - had to crank one through the printer, put in the address and all of that. It wasn't a bother, but he didn't like the sound of the printer running, so I had to go to the back office to do it. I didn't mind -- it got me out of that chair and let me stretch my legs. Plus, genius must be coddled, and that he certainly is, also in a big way: Nero Wolfe, thinker for hire, gourmet, orchid enthusiast, and owner of the strongest desk chair commercially available. Also my boss. Me? I'm Archie Goodwin."
Guess who's been looking for something to read?
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