"No!"

"I didn't leave her on the stoop because of the weather. She's in the front room. I have heard talk of her, and I understand that she is prompt pay."

He turned. "Confound it," he growled. He took in a bushel of air through his nose, let it out through his mouth, and moved. Behind his desk he stood, a living mountain, beside his oversized chair. He seldom rises to receive a caller, woman or man, but since he was already on his feet it would take no energy to be polite, so why not? I went and opened the connecting door to the front room, told Mrs Vail to come, presented her, and convoyed her to the red leather chair near the end of Wolfe's desk. Sitting, she gave the stole a backward toss, and it would have slid to the floor if I hadn't caught it. Wolfe had lowered his 285 pounds into his chair and was scowling at her, his normal attitude to anyone, especially a woman, who had the gall to come uninvited to the old brownstone on West 35th Street, his house, expecting him to go to work.

Althea Vail put her brown leather bag on the stand at her elbow. "First," she said, "I'd better tell you how I got here."

"Not material," Wolfe muttered.

"Yes it is," she declared. It came out hoarse, and she cleared her throat. "You'll see why. But first of all it has to be understood that what I'm going to tell you is absolutely in confidence. I know about you, I know your reputation, or I wouldn't be here, but it has to be definite that this is in complete confidence. Of course I'm going to give you a check as a retainer, and perhaps I should do that before..." She reached to the stand for her bag. "Ten thousand dollars?"