"I'll give _them_ the business next time!" he threatened. "Well, that kind of damps the pile for tonight. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm in no mood now to be clever." Smith straightened up abruptly. "Now ... now ... wait a minute!" he spluttered. "I mean, we all feel pretty low, naturally. Still, this wasn't the main ... serious as this was, we were trying to push on this other case, to get a start anyway." _Here we go again,_ thought Westervelt. _Shall I try to trip him up if anything happens, or shall I just get out of the way?_ He recalled the man in the embassy on Yoleen, holding a stained handkerchief to his bloody nose, and measured the size of his own with the tip of a forefinger. On the other hand, if there should be a melee, it would certainly cover a little item like a puffy eye. He wondered if he would have the guts to poke out his head at the proper instant, and was rather afraid that he would. Parrish was murmuring about sticking to the job in hand, trying to support Smith without arousing the antagonism of an open argument. Lydman seemed unconvinced. "Why don't we all have a round of coffee?" suggested Simonetta. "If we can just sit down a few minutes and pull ourselves together--" Smith looked at her gratefully. "Yes," he said. "That's the least we can do, Bob. This was a shock to us all, but the girls felt it more. I don't believe any of them wants to hit the street all shaken up like this. Right Si?" "I _would_ like to sit down somewhere," said Simonetta. "Here!" exclaimed Westervelt, leaping up. He had forgotten that he had been rooted to the chair since before the others had crept into the room during the transmission from Yoleen. "Never mind, Willie," Simonetta said. "I didn't mean I was collapsing. Come on, Beryl, let's see if there's any coffee or tea left." "Wait for me," said Pauline. "I've got to take this phone off the outside line anyway." Smith stepped forward to plant one hand behind Lydman's shoulder blade. "I could use a martini, myself," he called after the girls. "How about the rest of you? Pete? Willie?" Parrish seconded the motion, Westervelt said he would be right along, and trailed them slowly to the door. He paused to look back, and he and Joe exchanged brow-mopping gestures. The rest of them were trouping along the corridor without much talk. He ambled along until the men, bringing up the rear, had turned the corner. Then he ducked into the library. He fingered his eye again. Either it was a trifle less sore or he was getting used to it. He still hesitated to face an office full of people and good lighting. "There must be something around here to read," he muttered. He walked over to a stack of current magazines. Most of them were technical in nature; but several dealt with world and galactic news. He took a few to a seat at the long table and began to leaf through one.