"I just thought I'd ask," said Matheny. He opened a drawer and counted out one hundred ten-kilo-buck bills. "There! And, and, and I hope you choke on it!"
Sam stuffed the money in a pocket and lumbered out.
Doran lingered. "Look here, Pete," he said, "I will make this up to you. Honest. All you have got to do is trust me."
"Sure." Matheny slumped on the bed. "Not your fault. Let me alone for a while, will you?"
"Listen, I will come back in a few hours and buy you the best dinner in all the Protectorates and—"
"Sure," said Matheny. "Sure."
Doran left, closing the door with great gentleness.
He returned at 1730, entered, and stopped dead. The floor space was half taken up by a screen and a film projector.
"What happened, Pete?" he asked uncertainly.