"David Gerrold - Love Story in Three Acts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gerrold David)

With a significant look at the receptionist, "Ah, may I come in?"
John half-shrugged, stepped aside to let the man enter. He could always ask him to leave. Once
inside, he said, "Now then, Mr. uh…?"
"Wolfe," said the man, as he sat down. He produced a gold-foil business card, "Lawrence Wolfe, of
Inter-Bern."
"Uh—" said John, still standing, "I'm afraid there's been some misunderstanding." He started to hand
the card back, "I never—"
Wolfe smiled genially at him, "You must have, or I wouldn't be here." He rummaged through his
briefcase, found a form,
"Oh, here it is. Your wife was the one who called us." He looked up, "You knew about it, of course?"
"No, I-"
"Well, no matter. I have all the information already. All I need is your signature."
"Now look, Mr. Wolfe. You're the one who's made a mistake. I don't need-"
"Mr. Russell," he said calmly. "If you didn't need our services, your wife would not have called our
office. Now, please sit down—you're making me nervous."
John stepped around behind his desk, but did not sit.
Wolfe looked at him patiently, 'You'll be more comfortable."
John sat.
Wolfe said gently, "I understand your reluctance to accept the possibility that you might need a
monitor-guidance system. It's not a very pleasant thing to realize that your capabilities are down—but by
the same token, you can't begin to correct a fault until you admit that it exists. It is precisely that type of
person, Mr. Russell—your type of person—who needs our services the most"
"Now, look," said John, "I haven't got time for a sales pitch. If you've got any literature, leave it and
I'll look at it later. Right now—"
 Wolfe cut him off, "Are you enjoying your sex life?"
"What?" The suddenness of the question startled him.
"I said, are you enjoying your sex life? And don't tell me you are, because I've got the figures right
here in front of me. The only time thirty-four percent is something to brag about is when your median is
thirty."
John glowered, but he didn't say anything.
Wolfe continued, "All right, I'll concede that you might be enjoying yourself. It's not unusual for a man
to have a lower threshold than normal—but I can tell you that your wife is not enjoying her sex life-else
she wouldn't have called us. People only call us when they're unhappy." Wolfe paused, then asked
suddenly, "You're not cheating on her, are you?"
"Hell, no."
"Have you recently become a homosexual?"
John sneered, "Of course not."
"Do you use the fornixator?"
"You mean the mechanical masturbator?"
Wolfe was impassive, "It's been called that."
"No, I don't use it"
"I see," said Wolfe.
"You see what?"
"I see that if you were cheating on her, or using the fornixator, you'd have found your own particular
choice of sexual outlet. If you were, I'd get up and walk out of here right now. It'd be obvious why she
isn't enjoying sex with you—you're not enjoying it with her. You'd be getting your satisfaction elsewhere,
and there'd be nothing that I—or anyone—could do about it. But, if you still love her—and if she's still
your only sexual outlet… well, there is something I can do about that. You do love her, don't you?"
John hesitated. After a bit, "Well… yes, of course—"
"You want her to have the best, don't you?"