Freddy could only stare at him.
Sam tried to explain. "Shucks, it was really you that made me want to become a mercenary. You're the best Telly reporter of them all. When you cover a fracas, Papa, you really do it. You can see everything." He shook his head in admiration. "Gosh, you really feel the emotion. It's the most exciting thing in the world."
"Yeah, son," Freddy Soligen said emptily. "I suppose it is."
XIII
Joe was able to get around on auto-crutches by the time she finally arrived—a stereotype visitor. Done up brightly, a box of candy in one hand, flowers in the other. He could see her coming across the lawn, from the visitor's offices. He wished that he had worn his other suit. His clothing was on the skimpy side when uniforms were subtracted.
She came up to him. "Well, Joe."
He looked at the flowers and attempted a grin. "Lilies would have been more appropriate, considering the shape I'm in."
Nadine said, "I've just been talking to the staff doctors. You're not in as bad shape as all that. Some bone mending, is all."
The grin turned wry. "I wasn't just thinking of the physical shape." He settled to the stone bench which stood to one side of the walk he had been exercising upon before her arrival. For a moment, she remained standing.
He looked up at her. "Well," he said. "I didn't break your condition," he said. "Am I still receivable?"