“Indeed. You will want her name and address for your record.”
“I have it, thanks. She wrote it down for me.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Vollmer went. Wolfe got to his feet, pulled at his vest in one of his vain attempts to cover the strip of canary yellow shirt which encircled his magnificent middle, and preceded me to the office. I stopped to ask Fritz to clean off the inside of the furpiece as well as he could.
By the time I joined them Wolfe was back in his chair and she was sitting facing him. He was saying to her:
“I am glad it was no worse, Mrs. Chapin. The doctor has told you, you must be careful not to jerk the stitches loose for a few days. By the way, his fee — did you pay him?”
“Yes. Five dollars.”
“Good. Reasonable, I should say. Mr. Goodwin tells me your cab is waiting. Tell the driver to go slowly; jolting is always abominable, in your present condition even dangerous. We need not detain you longer.”
She had her eyes fixed on him again. Getting washed off and wrapped up hadn’t made her any handsomer. She took a breath through her nose and let it out again so you could hear it.
She said, finally, “Don’t you want me to tell you about it? I want to tell you what he did.”