Well, this ought to be it, thought Guthrie, releasing the girl. He can't let this pass. I suppose I have a poke in the snoot coming.
Trent hauled Karen aside protectively, frowning at Guthrie. The latter stood with his hands waist-high, shoulders slightly forward, waiting. Watching Trent's eyes, he saw them flicker toward the expectant Skirkhi.
"I realize that there can be only one explanation, Guthrie," said the other, "but this is obviously neither the time nor place to argue it."
"I didn't offer any explanation," said Guthrie, ashamed but irritated.
"We are being observed," Trent reminded. "Show a little Terran dignity!"
He raised his chin with dignity and Guthrie punched it as hard as he could.
Thinking it over later, he realized that he had entirely wasted the quick feint with his left. Trent was still posing as a saint when Guthrie's fist sent him flying into the solid stone and clay wall of the house behind him.
