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Updated: June 15, 2025
Coolly putting her tackle behind her, she rose. She was taller than her supposed father, full-bosomed and round-limbed as a sculptor's ideal. In a community of waist less, neckless women she was as slender as a young tree, and held her head like a swan.
Dane waited, afraid to disturb the Hoobat. He had not had a good look at the thing which had run from Queex but he knew it was something which had no business aboard the Queen. And it might be the disturbing factor they were searching for. If the Hoobat would only lead him to it The Hoobat moved, rearing up on the tips of its six legs, its neckless head slowly revolving on its puffy shoulders.
The wooden body, clumsy with pain, burst into fragile legs with absurdly large feet and funny writhing toes; its little stiff arms made abrupt cruel equal angles with the road. About its stunted loins clung a ponderous and jocular fragment of drapery. On one terribly brittle shoulder the droll lump of its neckless head ridiculously lived.
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