“You don’t seem to be interested in nickel.”
“No.”
“But isn’t it rather interesting that eighty percent of the world’s supply should come from your very door? All the armor plate, the ordnance, the gun barrels, the bullet casings owe a debt to this region, though now of course the demand for nickel has dropped.”
“The demand for copper hasn’t.”
“I’m afraid it has. Most of the mines near you are losing money.”
She did not contradict him, and he went on.
“Your cobalt and nickel and copper are so matted together that it’s pretty expensive to separate them.”
“I guess the expense doesn’t prevent.”
He turned and looked up at her. There was suspicion in the lids that almost veiled the blue, and disappointment in the curving lips, and pugnacity in the smooth brown jaw.
“What’s the matter?”