There were four; two elderly men, an elderly woman, and a girl. Fitzgerald, as he side-glanced, was afforded a shiver of pleasure. He recognized the girl. It was she who had given the flowers to the veteran. "That is a remarkably fine young woman," said Breitmann, echoing Fitzgerald's thought. The waiter opened the champagne. "Yes.
"Who did it?" she asked, the Stone Age savage who had been her ancestor not ten generations ago peeping out of her eyes. "The men who actually used the needlers are dead," Vall told her. "I killed a couple of them myself. We still have to find the men who planned it. I'd hoped you'd want to help us do that, Zinganna." He side-glanced to Dalla again; she nodded.