"No, no, it is a matter of principle," Ferren insisted. But the money changed hands. "And there were certain other obligations."
"How much you need?" Brendel fished into his pocket again, grinning.
The bell rang. It was Lukia. "All these ravenous people waiting on me?" She had changed into a fire-red daysuit. "Dobble, you should have fed the beasts." She snapped her fingers. "Up, beasts. I'll help you punch, dob."
Glowering, Pollony moved toward the cook. Brendel followed, chattering and arguing with Lukia.
Pollony was beginning to think again of a swiftly accelerating car, of her body encased beside that of Latsker Smith and hurtled through dusty streets.
Brendel said, "How many for opera?"
She whirled and glared.
"Pollony's a bug on opera. Tell them how you like opera, kid."
She glared. The last time Lukia and Ferren had been here he had done this, and the time before. Didn't he have any imagination?