Talk:Too Many Women
Chapter 1, page 1 (Bantam: 1967)
It was the same old rigmarole. Sometimes I found it amusing; sometimes it only bored me; sometimes it gave me a pronounced pain, especially when I had had more of Wolfe than was good for either of us.
ib.
I told him I was Archie Goodwin, the heart, liver, lungs and gizzard of the private detective business of Nero Wolfe, Wolfe being merely the brains.
Chapter 3, page 5
“Nothing. Excuse me.” I stood up. The notion of Wolfe fighting his way down to William Street every morning or even with me driving him, and punching a time clock, and working all day in the stock department, had been too much for my facial control.
Chapter 4, page 5
A coolness had sprung up between Wolfe and me. These coolnesses averaged about four a week, say, a couple of hundred a year. This particular one had two separate aspects: first, my natural desire for him to buy a new car opposed to his pigheaded determination to wait another year; and second, his notion of buying a noiseless typewriter opposed to my liking for the one we had.
Wolfe's alias, chapter 5, page 8
"His suggestion that you get a job in the stock department under another name shows that he has given the problem a great deal of thought. You could call yourself Clarence Camembert, for instance, or Percy Pickerel. If they gave you too much to do, you could bring things home and I’d be glad to help. They could pay you by weight – say, a dollar a pound a week. As you stand now, or at least sit, close to three hundred and forty pounds, it would come to an annual salary –"
"Archie. Your notebook."
