Otherwise, She Was a Very Good Secretary

I hired a secretary as a solution to straightening out notes and versions and reversions. However the sound of her typewriter gave me delusions of such efficiency that I got in a frightful state of depression. I took to writing secretly and typing it at night so the little snoop wouldn't know what I was doing. Furthermore, she was a literary type and had a scary habit of dreamily quoting from whatever chapter she had typed during the day. I would bumble into a bar and find her holding a group of wastrels sneeringly spellbound by reciting passages from my work-in-progress. She went to a psychoanalyst every day, too, and I gathered was freeing herself of the idea that she was in any way my inferior. I let her go before I committed myself to the analyst's care. Otherwise she was a very good secretary.