When he saw me step through the doorway, he tried to duck into the back
room, but I stopped him with my voice.
"No you don't!" I shouted. "I want to talk to you."
He came back to the counter furtively, awaiting my approach like a man
about to be hanged.
"What is it?" he asked tiredly.
"You know what it is," I told him.
"Poe," he said. "Shakespeare."
"Just Poe so far," I said.
"No Shakespeare yet?" he asked, surprised. "In a little while, I
suppose. It's probably just warming up. Yes, that's right. The Poe came
first, and then the Shakespeare."
"You know about the typewriter then?"