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Updated: June 14, 2025
"You may go in now, sir." He disappeared around the door. Harold Bond stepped through the doorway, followed by two men. Morely looked at them closely. Engineers, he thought. "What have you got?" he demanded. One of the men opened a briefcase and removed a large, dully gleaming band. Apparently, it was made of plastic, or some light alloy, for he handled it as though it weighed very little.
And the landlord evidently thought so too; for when he had told him that the stage had not yet arrived, and that it was quite uncertain when it might come, he looked so much as if he expected him to go, that Morely took up his bundle and went without a word. So Morely was turned out to wander up and down the street with his bundle in his hand; for he had nowhere else to go.
The kitchen at his left, he saw, was in perfect order, everything being in place and obviously clean. He went to the range and motioned with his head. "Pull the drip pan," he ordered. Graham came forward and pulled a flat sheet from the range, then opened an access door at the front of the stove. Morely peered inside, then thrust a hand in.
He's obviously spending a lot of time at his activities, and that time must come out of his community performance. This certainly is not routine, and I can't condone your failure to make a report on it." "But, I " Morely held up a hand sternly. "Let's not have a string of excuses," he said.
Not far from the ruined bridge support, Morely could see the huge, well maintained intake of one of the chemical extraction plants. He shook his head at the contrast. "That eyesore should be pulled down," he muttered. "Should have been pulled down long ago. Suggested it in a report, but I suppose it never got to the Old Man. He depends on his staff too much. If I had the region, I'd "
The clerk returned to place the file drawers convenient to his superior's desk. He hesitated a moment, his eyes on the headband, then picked up the completed papers from the desk and went out. Morely riffled through the cards, idly checked a few against his notes, and leaned back again. The file section seemed to be operating smoothly. He looked at his desk.
Sometimes not often, however he beguiled him into some quiet pleasure-taking out of the house, to while away the time. Having given up his own room for the garret, he now gave up his garret a matter of greater self-denial to share his own room with Morely, that the garret might be made a place for evening work.
Let him taste it once, and his power of refraining was gone. It was a pity, the landlord thought, and it made him uncomfortable for the moment; and in his discomfort he scolded and frowned, and walked about the room, till John Morely fancied he was the cause of it all, and again he took up his bundle to go. Where was he to go?
One of his people nearly knocked me out of the air this morning, over a parking area, and I confiscated his identification. I tried to give it to Harwood after the conference, but he must have been in a hurry. I caught up with him and gave him the folder." "So I heard." The director smiled wryly. "Anything more?" "No, sir." Morely saluted and left.
Then, you could have come in and presented it for my approval. That is the kind of work I want. And that's the kind of work I mean to get in the future. Do you understand?" Sternly, DeVore suppressed a sarcastic thought. He held his mind and face blank and nodded with a semblance of respect. "Yes, sir." "Very well." Morely waved a hand. "Now get something done."
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