"Hodaki, Feng," he
indicated the two Easterners with a nod as he put down his tray.
"Jansen, Van Wyke." That accounted for the blonds.
"Ashe!" A man arose at the other table and came to stand beside theirs.
Thin, with a dark, narrow face and restless eyes, he was much younger
than the others, younger and not so well controlled. He might answer
questions if there was something in it for him, Ross decided, and filed
the thought away.
"Well, Kurt?" Ashe's recognition was as dampening as it could be, and
Ross's estimation of the younger man went up a fraction when the snub
appeared to have no effect upon him.
"Did you hear about Hardy?"
Feng looked as if he were about to speak, and Van Wyke frowned. Ashe
made a deliberate process of chewing and swallowing before he replied.
"Naturally." His tone reduced whatever had happened to Hardy to a
matter-of-fact proceeding far removed from Kurt's implied melodrama.
"He's smashed up ... kaput...." Kurt's accent, slight in the beginning,
was thickening.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45