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.
