Duomart gave him quite a struggle. A minute or two later, he had her down on the floor, her body and one arm clamped between his knees, while he unzipped the cuff on the sleeve of the other arm and pulled the sleeve up. He brought out the tube of antihypno ointment and rubbed a few drops of the ointment into the hollow of Duomart's elbow, put the tube back in his pocket, then went on holding her down for nearly another minute. She was gasping for breath, blue eyes furious, muscles tensed.
Suddenly he felt her relax. An expression of stunned surprise appeared on her face. "Why," she began incredulously, "he did ..."
"Gave you the spray treatment, eh?" Dasinger said, satisfied. "I was pretty sure he had."
"Why, that— At his beck and call, he says! Well, we'll just see about ... let me up, Dasinger! Just wait till I get my hands on that bony partner of yours!"
"Now take it easy."
"Take it easy! Why should I? I ..."
"It would be better," Dasinger explained, "if Egavine believes you're still under the influence."
She scowled up at him; then her face turned thoughtful. "Ho! You feel it isn't that he's a depraved old goat, that he's got something more sinister in mind?"
"It's a definite possibility. Why not wait and find out? The ointment will immunize you against further tricks."