The pictures came out pretty well, considering. Since Wolfe had told me to order four prints of each, there was about half a bushel. That evening after dinner, as Saul and I sat in the office inspecting and assorting them, it seemed to me there were more of Madeline than I remembered taking, and I left most of them out of the pile we were putting to one side for Wolfe. There were three good ones of Rony-one full-face, one three-quarters, and one profile-and one of the shots of the membership card was something to be proud of. That alone should have got me a job on Life. Webster Kane wasn't photogenic, but Paul Emerson was.
I remarked on that fact to Wolfe as I went to put his collection on his desk. He grunted. I asked if he was ready for my report for the afternoon, and he said he would go through the pictures first.
Paul Emerson was one of the causes for the delay on my report. Saul and I had got back to the office shortly after six, but Wolfe's schedule had been shattered by the emergency on the roof, and he didn't come down until 6.28. At that minute he strode in, turned the radio on and dialled to WPIT, went to his chair behind the desk, and sat with his lips tightened.
The commercial came, and the introduction, and then Emerson's acid baritone: “This fine June afternoon it is no pleasure to have to report that the professors are at it again-but then they always are-oh, yes, you can count on the professors. One of them made a speech last night at Boston, and if you have anything left from last week's pay you'd better hide it under the mattress. He wants us not only to feed and clothe everybody on earth, but educate them also…” Part of my education was watching Wolfe's face while Emerson was broadcasting.
His lips, starting fairly tight, kept getting tighter and tighter until there was only a thin straight hairline and his cheeks were puffed and folded like a contour map. When the tension got to a certain point his mouth would pop open, and in a moment close, and it would start over again. I used it to test my powers of observation, trying to spot the split second for the pop.