A tall, silver-haired, important-looking man opened it and greeted them heartily.
"Solid man, Greet!" he exclaimed. "You're a real scratcher! And is this our sharp?" He gave Jeff a friendly but appraising look.
"Just what you order," Snader said proudly. "His name—Jeff Elliott. Fine sharp. Best in his circuit. He brings his lifemate, too. Ann Elliott."
The old man rubbed his smooth hands together. "Prime! I wish joy," he said to Ann and Jeff. "I'm Septo Kersey. Come in. Bullen's waiting."
He led them into a spacious drawing room with great windows looking out on the lights of the city. There was a leather chair in a corner, and in it sat a heavy man with a grim mouth. He made no move, but grunted a perfunctory "Wish joy" when Kersey introduced them. His cold eyes studied Jeff while Kersey seated them in big chairs.
Snader did not sit down, however. "No need for me now," he said, and moved toward the door with a mocking wave at Ann.
Bullen nodded. "You get the rest of your pay when Elliott proves out."
"Here, wait a minute!" Jeff called. But Snader was gone.
"Sit still," Bullen growled to Jeff. "You understand radioptics?"