"And you thought you'd goofed with the collapser, and gotten me, too!"
Nods.
"So what happened in the street? How'd you happen to stick around?"
The talon went to his earhole, then he spread his hands wide, in a gesture of "many-ness," and waited hopefully.
"You heard a lot of—what? Oh! You heard those men coming up the street, and stuck around to see what was up. But I didn't hear them, and I was closer. In fact, they were sneaking after me."
Clatclit pointed to his ears and nodded, then indicated mine and shook his head.
I got it then. Supersensitivity. It made sense. Just as man's ears, accustomed to use in air, are even more receptive to sounds in a denser medium, as, for instance, underwater, where sound waves are more powerful; so the sugarfeet's ears, built for use in the rarefied Martian atmosphere, could hear all the better in the heavier air of Marsport.
"Okay, so you heard them, saw me, and came to the rescue. Fine. Now, the big question: Why? What is so special about me, Clatclit?"
He stood up and made the same strange gesture he'd made the night on Von Braun Street. Alternate pointing to his head, then to me.
The "me" part was easy enough, but the other.... I tried a series of likely meanings.