:
Robert A. Heinlein - A Comedy Of Justice
Atec Февраль 27 2008 02:52:13
Книга только для ознакомления
... and correct your spelling and your grammar - you just whip it out. Now I know why I was picked for this job. Not my girlish smile, dear - my typing. Most of, my guild can't type. Many of them took up whoring because shorthand and typing were too much for them. Not me. Well, let's get to work; this job will run days, weeks, I don't know. Do you want me to continue to sleep here?'
'Do you want to leave?'
'Dear, that's the guest's decision. Has to be.'
'I don't want you to leave.' (Marga! Do please understand!)
'Good thing you said that, or I would have burst into tears. Besides, a good secretary should stick around in case something comes up in the night.'
'Pat, that was an old joke when I was in seminary.'
'It was an old joke before you were born, dear. Lets get to work.'
Visualize a calendar (that I don't have), its pages ripping off in the wind. This manuscript gets longer and longer but Pat insists that Prince Beelzebub's advice must be taken literally. Pat makes two copies of all that I write; one copy stacks up on my desk, the other copy disappears each night. Imps again. Pat tells me that I can assume that the vanishing copy is going to the Palace, at least as far as the Prince's desk... so what I am doing so far must be, satisfactory.
In less than two hours each day Pat types out and prints out what takes me all day to write. But I stopped driving so hard when a handwritten note came in:
You are working too hard
: