“It is no business of mine,” I said to Jon, “but I have seen you look with longing upon the she that was not Langley’s wife. Since she does not belong to him, there is nothing to prevent you from having her. Should not that make you happy?”
“Are you kidding?” he snarled.
Which proves that I have still much to learn about his race.
Out front, Langley spied his metal servant, MS-33, just as he was going out the door. He turned to him. “What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously.
MS-33 made no answer. He stared malevolently at the bar, ignoring Langley.
“Come on here, damn you!” Langley said. MS-33 said nothing. Langley went over to him and roared foul things into his earphones that would corrode one’s soul, if one had one. I shall never forget that moment. The screaming, red-faced Langley, the laughing miners.
But he got no reply from MS-33. Not then or ever. And this was scarcely strange, for I had removed his fuse.