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"Does my charity passage demand an interview, director?" Duke asked. The other showed no offense, unfortunately. He smiled wryly. "If I choose, it does. I'm in command of this ship, as well as head of the Foreign Office. May I come in?" "I can't keep you out," Duke admitted. He dropped onto the couch, sprawling out, while the other found the single chair.
David I'd give my chances of Heaven to be hidden behind the door." "So would I," said Carroll wryly. "Above all things," counseled Leverage with mock severity: "Don't you go making love to her." Carroll reached a muscular hand across the table. His sinewy fingers closed around a glass paperweight. He held this poised steadily. "One more crack out of you, Eric, and I'll slam this against your head.
He had allowed sentiment to sway him for a few hours. But sentiment had received a jolt during his interview with the girl from the lace department of Hoskin & Marl's. "Cat's foot!" ejaculated the captain of the Seamew. "I guess I'm not afraid to take another look at that girl, if she's in here. Probably two looks will be about all I want," and he grinned rather wryly as he approached the door.
Starting with a hundred colonists? Where are your mathematics?" The Co-ordinator said, "The proof is there. We estimate that each of Rigel's planets now supports a population of nearly one billion." "To be more exact," Plekhanov rumbled, "some nine hundred million on Genoa, seven and a half on Texcoco." Mayer smiled wryly. "I wonder what the residents of each of these planets call their worlds.
Did no one realize that the erecting of the dam was heavy enough responsibility for any one man? His first impulse was to take the letter over to Pen. Then he smiled wryly. He must not take all his troubles to her or she would get no relief from the burdening that Sara put upon her. So he brooded over the letter until supper time when he went with Henderson down to the lower mess.
"I'll be delighted to have you join our firm," I said wryly, for I felt he would be a completely useless appendage.
He smiled wryly now, remembering his emotions when he had first seen Ragnar Thorvald months ago. As if the officer ever considered the likes, dislikes or dreams of one Shann Lantee. No, reality and dreams seldom approached each other. Dreams.... "On any of those shoreline maps," he asked suddenly, "do they have marked a mountain shaped like a skull?" Thorvald thrust with his pole.
I tried to get thoughts from the kids and from the Moreno's, upstairs. But there wasn't a thing. And yet, I could get you clearly. Apparently this thing won't work out as a spy device." "But, are you sure?" Graham shrugged wryly. "Well ... no," he admitted. "I'll have to finish wiring the other set and try 'em both out before I'll be sure of anything.
She can refuse to let me in if she wants. And if Joe wants to mix things up, I'll oblige him down the road a piece." "All right, I tell Bela," said Musq'oosis. "Let me down now. Not want anybody know I talk to you." Sam pulled up. As the old man was about to get down he offered Sam his hand. "Ain't you little bit scare of Joe?" he asked curiously. Sam smiled wryly. "Sure!" he confessed.
Not that any of those wild dreams born in that minute or two had been realized in the ensuing months. Probably those dreams had always been as wild as the ones reported by the first scout on Warlock. Shann grinned wryly now at the short period of childish hope and half-confidence that he could do big things.
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