"How old—?" The Security rep stared; stumbled. "How should I know? What's that got to do with this?"
"You'll see. Meanwhile, please make an estimate."
"Well ... maybe twenty-five."
"You're quite close. I'm twenty-six."
"So?"
"So how many twenty-six-year-old women do you know who are supervisors of planetary record centers?"
Pfaff's mouth opened, then closed again with no word uttered.
Nelva Guthrie said, "Some men, Mr. Pfaff, might deduce from this that such a woman has certain—contacts."
The Security agent still held his silence.
"In my case," the girl went on, "the contacts are more than adequate." A slight tightening of the lips. "Mr. Jessup no doubt will tell you all about it when he calls you."