Just before pressing through the door, Nadine put her hand on Joe's arm and looked into his face ruefully. "Darling, you've had so much hard luck in your time, I'm sorry this first assignment for the organization had to be a failure."
Joe wet his lips, carefully, "Why'd you think it was?" he said, opening the door.
Nadine could only stare as he ushered her into Phil Holland's presence.
That crisp, efficient operator made much the same motions he had the first time Joe had met him here. Holding a chair for Nadine, shaking hands briskly with Joe and motioning to another chair for him. While they were getting settled, Frank Hodgson sauntered in, seemingly as lackadaisical and disinterested as ever. After a minimum of exchanged pleasantries, he subsided onto the couch and fished for pipe and tobacco.
Holland took in Joe's arm, still immobilized in a sling, and the other signs of his wounds. He said crisply, "I thought that we had removed you permanently from the field of combat, Joe."
Joe said sourly, "Some of the Sovs thought otherwise."
Holland said, an element of irritation in his voice, "It is hard to understand how you could have revealed yourself so quickly."
Joe pursed his lips and looked at Nadine. He said, "I think I've figured that out. It's practically impossible for Nadine to dissimulate. And I've never seen her and her brother together but that they weren't arguing."
Nadine was frowning at him. "What has Balt to do with it?"