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It has in fact become customary to designate all morbid manifestations not of traumatic or infectious origin as degenerative. Indeed, Magnan's classification of degenerates makes it possible that the highest general configuration of nervous accomplishment need not exclude the application of the concept of degeneration.
She went off at eight o'clock preceded by Le Duc, who had orders to greet the doorkeeper's family on my behalf. At Magnan's I had a dinner worthy of Lucullus, and I promised to stay with him whenever I passed Chamberi, which promise I have faithfully performed. On leaving the gourmand's I went to the convent, and M M came down alone to the grating.
"Retief. I've been meaning to ask you. About the ... ah ... blasters. Are you ?" Retief leaned on Magnan's desk, looked at him. "I thought that was to be our little secret." "Well, naturally I " Magnan closed his mouth, swallowed. "How is it, Retief," he said sharply, "that you were aware of this blaster business, when the Ambassador himself wasn't?" "Easy," Retief said. "I made it up."
"If I didn't know about your democratic principles, I'd think you were really mad." The servant ducked his head and scuttled away. "Has this fellow...." The major-domo eyed the retreating bearer. "I dropped my glass," Retief said. "Mr. Magnan's upset because he hates to see liquor wasted." Retief turned to find himself face-to-face with Ambassador Crodfoller.
They worked harder now, heaving against the stiff levers. The tower quivered, moved slowly toward their side. "I'm exhausted," Magnan gasped. He dropped the lever, lolled back in the chair, gulping air. Retief shifted position, took Magnan's lever with his left hand. "Shift it to middle gear," Retief said. Magnan gulped, punched the button and slumped back, panting. "My arm," he said.
"But it's not up to the Corps to meddle in Petreacs' internal affairs." He leaned over, picked up Magnan's desk lighter and lit a cigar. He blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "Right?" Magnan looked at him, nodded weakly. "Right." "I'd better be getting along to my desk," Retief said. "Now that the Ambassador feels that I'm settling down at last "
Magnan's point is a little weak," Retief said. "But you're overlooking something. You plan to murder a dozen or so officers of the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne along with the local wheels. The corps won't overlook that. It can't." "Their tough luck they're in the middle," Zorn muttered. "Our offer is extremely generous, Mr. Zorn," Magnan said.
"You must tell me all about it in the salon." "We'll have this out right here," Magnan snapped. "I've warned you!" Magnan's voice trailed off as he took in the scene around the table. "After you," Retief said, nudging Magnan toward the door. "What's going on here?" Magnan barked. He stared at the men, started around Retief. A hand stopped him.
She went off at eight o'clock preceded by Le Duc, who had orders to greet the doorkeeper's family on my behalf. At Magnan's I had a dinner worthy of Lucullus, and I promised to stay with him whenever I passed Chamberi, which promise I have faithfully performed. On leaving the gourmand's I went to the convent, and M M came down alone to the grating.
He took a glass from the tray, winking at the servant. "No harm done," he said. "Mr. Magnan's just warming up for the big dance." A Nenni major-domo bustled up, rubbing his hands politely. "Some trouble here?" he said. "What happened, Honorables, what, what...." "The blundering idiot," Magnan spluttered. "How dare " "You're quite an actor, Mr. Magnan," Retief said.
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