“No, Theseus,” Hebster told him gently.
Then, while Hebster sat back and enjoyed, temporarily forgetting the missing coil under his foot, they poured out more, desperately, feverishly, weaving in and out of each other’s sentences.
“A portable neutron stabilizer for high altit—”
“More than fifty ways of saying ‘however’ without—”
“… So that every housewife can do an entrechat while cook—”
“… Synthetic fabric with the drape of silk and manufactura—”
“… Decorative pattern for bald heads using the follicles as—”
“… Complete and utter refutation of all pyramidologists from—”
“All right!” Hebster roared, “ All right! That’s enough!”
Greta Seidenheim almost forgot herself and sighed with relief. Her stenographic machine had been sounding like a centrifuge.