"Okay," I told her, "I'll see what I can do," and stepped aside for her to enter. After taking her coat and hanging it on the rack and escorting her to the office, I gave her one of the yellow chairs near me instead of the red leather one at the end ofWolfe's desk. She sat with her back straight and her feet together-nice little feet in fairly sensible gray shoes. I told her that Wolfe wouldn't be available until six o'clock.

"It will be better," I said, "if I see him first and tell him about you. In fact, it will be essential. My name is Archie Goodwin. What is yours?"

"I know about you," she said. "Of course. If I didn't I wouldn't be here."

"Many thanks. Some people who know about me have a different reaction. And your name?"

She was eyeing me. "I'd rather not," she said, "until I know if Mr. Wolfe will take my case. It's private. It's very confidential."

I shook my head. "No go. You'll have to tell him what your case is before he decides if he'll take it, and I'll be sitting here listening. So? Also I'll have to tell him more about you than you're thirty-five years old, weigh a hundred and twenty pounds, and wear no earrings, before he decides if he'll even see you."

She almost smiled. "I'm forty-two."

I grinned. "See? I need facts. Who you are and what you want."

Her mouth worked. "It's very confidential." Her mouth worked some more. "But there was no sense in coming unless I tell you."

"Right."

She laced her fingers. "All right. My name is Bertha Aaron. It is spelled with two A's. I am the private secretary of Mr. Lamont Otis, senior partner in the law firm of Otis, Edey, Heydecker, and Jett. Their office is on Madison Avenue at Fifty-first Street. I'm worried about something that happened recently and I want Mr. Wolfe to investigate it. I can pay him a reasonable fee, but it might develop that he will be paid by the firm. It might."