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Anywhere would be better than here.
         “Okay,” he said. “Let's get this firewood all chopped and we'll go to the bank.”
         Invigorated by their plan, the Baudelaire orphans swung their axes at an amazing speed, and soon enough they were done chopping firewood and ready to go to the bank. They remembered Count Olaf saying he had a map of the city, and they looked thoroughly for it, but they couldn't find any trace of a map, and decided it must be in the tower, where they were forbidden to go. So, without directions of any sort, the Baudelaire children ser off for the city's banking district in hopes of finding Mr. Poe.
         After walking through the meat district, the flower district, and the sculpture district, the three children arrived at the banking district, pausing to take a refreshing sip of water at the Fountain of Victorious Finance. The banking district consisted of several wide streets with large marble buildings on each side of them, all banks. They went first to Trustworthy Bank, and then to Faithful Savings and Loan, and then to Subservient Financial Services, each time inquiring for Mr. Poe. Finally, a receptionist at Subservient said she knew that Mr. Poe worked down the street, at Mulctuary Money Management. The building was square and rather plain-looking, though once inside, the three orphans were intimidated by the hustle and bustle of the people as they raced around the large, echoey room. Finally, they asked a uniformed guard whether they hadarrived at the right place to speak to Mr. Poe, and he led them into a large office with many file cabinets and no windows.
         “Why, hello,” said Mr. Poe, in a puzzled tone of voice. He was sitting at a desk covered in typed papers that looked important and boring. Surrounding a small framed photograph of his wife and his two beastly sons were three telephones with flashing lights. “Please come in.”
         “Thank you,” said Klaus, shaking Mr. Poe's hand. The Baudelaire youngsters sat down in three large and comfortable chairs.
         Mr. Poe opened his mouth to speak, but had to cough into a handkerchief before he could begin. “I'm very busy today,” he said, finally. "So I don't have too much time to
    chat
    
    . Next time you should call ahead of time when you plan on being in the
    neighborhood
    
    , and I will put some time aside to take you to lunch."
         “That would be very pleasant,” Violet said, “and we're sorry we didn't contact you before we stopped by, but we find ourselves in an urgent situation.”
         “Count Olaf is a madman,” Klaus said, getting right to the point. "We cannot stay with him.”
         “He struck Klaus across the face. See his bruise?” Violet said, but just as she said it, one of the telephones rang, in a loud, unpleasant wail. “Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said, and picked up the phone. “Poe here,” he said into the receiver. “What? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and looked at the Baudelaires as if he had forgotten they were there.
         “I'm sorry,” Mr. Poe said, “what were we talking about? Oh, yes, Count Olaf. I'm sorry you don't have a good first impression of him.”
         “He has only provided us with one bed,” Klaus said.
         “He makes us do a great many difficult chores. ”
         “He drinks too much wine.”
         “Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said, as another telephone rang. “Poe here,” he said. “Seven. Seven.
     Seven.
     Seven.
     Six and a half.
     Seven. You're welcome.” He hung up and quickly wrote something down on one of his papers, then looked at the children. “I'm sorry,” he said, “what were you saying about Count Olaf? Making you do chores doesn't sound too bad.”
         “He calls us orphans.”
         “He has terrible friends.”
         “He is always asking about our money.”
        
     “Poko!” (This was from Sunny.)
         Mr. Poe put