Mamise drifted from one audience to another. She encountered her team-mate Pafflow and tried to find a speaker who was using his language.
At length a voice of an intonation familiar to him threw him into an ecstasy. What was jargon to Mamise was native music to him, and she lingered at his elbow, pretending to share his thrill in order to increase it.
She felt a twitch at her sleeve, and turned idly.
Nicky Easton was at her side. Her mind, all her minds, began to convene in alarm like the crew of a ship attacked.
“Nicky!” she gasped.
“No names, pleass! But to follow me quick.”
“I’m right with you.” She turned to follow him. “One minute.” She stepped back and spoke fiercely to Pafflow. “Pafflow, find Mr. Davidge. Tell him Nicky is here. Remember, Nicky is here. It’s life and death. Find him.”
Pafflow mumbled, “Nicky is here!” and Mamise ran after Nicky, who was lugging a large suit-case. He was quivering with excitement.
“I didn’t knew you in pentaloons, but Chake Nuttle pointet you owit,” he laughed.