"They--they block my thinking, sir, that's all. Why, take that example
I just mentioned. In plain writing, I caught the clinker in one-tenth
of a second. Then they handed me a layout with a picture of a lawyer
dictating notes to his secretary on it. Her legs were crossed. Nice
legs. Gorgeous legs...."
"How long that time, Delvin?"
"Indefinite. Till they took the girl away, sir."
Baxter cleared his throat loudly. "I understand, at last. Hence your
slight antisocial rating. You avoid women in order to keep your job."
"Yes, sir. Even my secretary, Marge, whom I'd never in a million years
think of looking at twice, except for business reasons, of course, has
to stay out of my office when I'm working, or I can't function."
"You have my sympathy, son," Baxter said, not unkindly.
"Thank you, sir. It hasn't been easy."
"No, I don't imagine it has...." Baxter was staring into some far-off
distance. Then he remembered himself and blinked back to the present.
"Delvin," he said sharply. "I'll come right to the point. This thing
is.... You have been chosen for an extremely important mission."
I couldn't have been more surprised had he announced my incipient
maternity, but I was able to ask, "Me? For Pete's sake, why, sir?"