"Yeah. She hasn't changed much—still as unbarbered a mess as ever. If you've got what you want, Chris, we'd better—"
"Kimball Kinnison, I demand Cleonie's life!" came Helen's vibrant thought. She had snatched one of Clarrissa's DeLameters and was swinging it into line when she was caught and held as though in a vise.
"Sorry, Toots," the Gray Lensman's thought was more than a little grim. "Nice little girls don't play so rough. 'Scuse me, Chris, for dipping into your dish. Take over."
"Do you really mean that, Kim?"
"Yes. It's your meat—slice it as thick or as thin as you please."
"Even to letting her go?"
"Check. What else could you do? In a lifeboat—I'll even show the jade how to run it."
"Oh, Kim—"
"Quartermaster! Kinnison. Please check Number Twelve lifeboat and break it out. I am loaning it to Cleonie of Lyrane II."
XXII.