Maybe seven minutes later a gopher showed up with the coffee and the biscuits. It was a new gopher—it was pretty much always a new gopher, gopher being the lowest rung in the Unger organization—but the British cookies were really good, and the coffee, as always, was Costa Rican and fine. He kept the cookies down and had several cautious sips of the coffee, and he physically recovered to the extent that he really began to hurt. He ordered the gopher off for some aspirin, or better yet, codeine. The gopher never returned.