Nonfiction 2

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By Cyril M. Kornbluth, Remy Charlip

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And walked out of the house. " Walter said uneasily, "I'm sorry, doll. " “—Of course he's a foreigner. " He jotted it down. While they were doing the dishes Betty said, "I think he was drunk. " "No," Walter said. "It's exactly the same thing he did in my office. " He laughed and said uncertainly, "Or maybe he's royalty. " "Well, there isn't any more royalty, not to speak of," she said angrily, hanging up the dish towel. " "Uncle Miltie. But... uh... I think I’ll read. Uh... where do you keep those magazines of yours, doll?

He handed the blond girl a pair of retractors, and told her: “Just slip the corners of the blades in as I cut—” She gave him an alarmed look, and gestured at the reclining woman. He lowered his voice: “Very well. Slip in the corners and rock them along the incision. ” Dr. Full held the Cutaneous Series knife to his eyes as he adjusted the little slide for three centimeters’ depth. He sighed a little as he recalled that its last use had been in the extirpation of an “inoperable” tumor of the throat.

Morning, young Coogler," said a gruff voice. The outline was that of J. G. Barsax, senior partner of his late father's firm. A murmur of greeting came from three other elephantine figures. They were Gonfalonieri of First American, Witz of Diversified Limited, and McChesney of Southern Development Inc. If an efficient bomb had gone off in the room at that moment, it would have liquidated eighteen-billion-dollars' worth of Top Management and Ownership. "Sorry about your father," Barsax grunted. "Mind if we sit?

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