"I believe it will be if I am given the opportunity to try."
"I tell you that it will not, and I forbid you to try." Haedaecker speared Paul with a glance from the icy eyes. "You understand, whether or not the experiment might be successful, if I hear of your trying it, you will be subjected to every bit of punitive action that the law permits."
Paul leaned back easily. "Now," he said with cool candor, "you're assuming that I have all intention of attempting it without official permission."
"I would not put it past you. In fact I believe you are."
"All predicated upon the fact that a footpad belted me and swiped my wallet?"
"Yes. For what other reason?"
"Theft is usually done for—"
Haedaecker stood up angrily. "I've heard enough," he snapped.
Haedaecker strode to the door and hurled it open with one swing of a powerful arm.
What happened next was not too remote a coincidence. It has happened to everybody, several times. Someone with the intention of entering a room will brace themselves, turn the doorknob, and thrust, only to have the door opened from the other side. The net result is that the muscular effort, tensed to strive against the mass and inertia of the door, will find its force expended against no resistance. Doors are pulled from one side and pushed from the other. If the shover pushes first, the would-be puller gets slapped in the hand with the doorknob, sometimes resulting in a broken finger or thumb. But if the puller pulls first, the shover finds himself catapulted forward by his own muscular effort. The results of this latter can be both comic or tragic.