The tendons in his hands ached and his mouth was dry, though not with fear. An urgent ringing pounded in his ears. He shook it out of his head and got up.
She came to him.
The ringing was still in his ears. It wasn't a figment of imagination; it was a real voice—that of Dimanche, howling:
"Huntner! It's a word variant. In their language it means Hunter. She can hear me!"
"Hear you?" repeated Cassal vacantly.
She was kissing him.
"A descendant of carnivores. An audio-sensitive. She's been listening to you and me all the time."
"Of course I have, ever since the first interview at the bureau," said Murra. "In the beginning I couldn't see what value it was, but you convinced me." She laid her hand gently over his eyes. "I hate to do this to you, dear, but I've got to have Dimanche."
She had been smothering him with caresses. Now, deliberately, she began smothering him in actuality.
Cassal had thought he was an athlete. For an Earthman, he was. Murra Foray, however, was a Huntner, which meant hunter—a descendant of incredibly strong carnivores.