"Viva voce?"

"Archie." Wolfe looked at me. "Where did you pick that up, where did you learn to pronounce it, and what do you think it means?" kj "Do you want me to read this stuff out loud, sir?"

"It doesn't mean out loud. Confound you." Wolfe emptied his glass, leaned back in his chair, got his fingers to meet in front of his belly and laced them.

"Proceed."

"Okay. First there's a description of

Mr. Hibbard. Small gentleman, around fifty f pointed nose, dark eyes -ff "Enough. For that I can plunder my memory."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Hibbard seems to have started out by saying, How do you do, sir, my name is -"

"Pass the amenities."

I glanced down the page. "How will this do? Mr. Hibbard said, I was advised to come to you by a friend whose name need not be mentioned, but the motivating force was plain funk. I was driven here by fear.

Wolfe nodded. I read from the typewritten sheets:

Mr. Wolfe: Yes. Tell me about it.

Mr. Hibbard: My card has told you, I am in the psychology department at Columbia. Since you are an expert, you probably observe on my face and in my bearing the stigmata of fright bordering on panic, o Mr. Wolfe: I observe that you are upset. I have no means of knowing whether it is chronic or acute.

Mr. Hibbard: It is chronic. At least it is becoming so. That is why I have resorted to… to you. I am under an intolerable strain. My life is in danger… no, not that, worse than that, my life has been forfeited. I admit it.

Mr. Wolfe: Of course. Mine too, sir.

All of us.

Mr. Hibbard: Rubbish. Excuse me. I am not discussing original sin. Mr. Wolfe, I am going to be killed. A man is going to kill me.