“My God,” he said huskily.
“Yes, sir,” I agreed.
“How did it happen?”
“Don’t know.”
“Who is it?”
“Don’t know.”
He made his eyes come away from it and up until they met mine, and I gave him an A for control. It really was a sight.
“The man at the door won’t let us leave,” he stated.
“No, sir. You can see why.”
“I certainly can.” His eyes stayed with me, however. “But we know nothing about it. My name is Carlisle, Homer N. Carlisle. I am the executive vice-president of the North American Foods Company. My wife was merely acting under impulse; she wanted to see the office of Nero Wolfe, and she opened the door and entered. She’s sorry she did, and so am I. We have an appointment, and there’s no reason why we should be detained.”