Miss Kal smiled also and settled back into her specially built chair with its temperature and humidity controls. A present from Mr. Caradac. He was such a nice being to work for.
Joe opened the door, and said, "Oh, hullo, Kent. Since when are you knocking?"
Big Kent nodded formally to Miss Kal and winked at Joe. He said, "Yoe, there's something I'd like to talk over with you in private."
With a sigh, Miss Kal rose again and made her way through the other door into her little office. The door closed behind her.
Kent let out a long breath. He smiled at Joe and the smile turned into a laugh that had an odd sound of triumph.
"Hohn, Uarnl," he said, and laughed again. "Ut sinna d'yonlwar?"
Joe sat down behind his desk and looked at the big man. Hone you-arnel. Wasn't that what Sarah had said—or something very much like it? He shook his head.
"You wanted to talk to me about something, Kent? What are you and Sarah cooking up with this gibberish?"
The brilliant Martian sunlight—not as dim as had been anticipated in the days before space travel—came through the ceiling-high windows, struck little lights here and there from the bouquet of Venusian Glass-moss that Miss Kal tended so carefully. It slanted across Kent's big face as he looked at Joe for a long moment, giving his left eye a pale, shallow lustre and throwing the shadow of his jutting nose down over his mouth. He opened and closed his hands, and said:
"Nothing. It'll wait, I guess." His gaze wandered over the room and settled on a corner that was empty save for a throw rug—a relic of Caradac's Iowa past. Kent's mouth tightened into a thin line. He stared at the corner.