The redheaded and improbably multi-skilled heroine of The Puppet Masters and other Heinlein stories. The little man swelled visibly at Gaines' acknowledgment of his assumed rank. She led them to a booth somewhat detached from the crowd of dining commuters. Zeb took his shoulders, the women a leg apiece and managed well enough.
I think that makes him an impossible candidate. One of them stirred as Wingate climbed over the side. Five minim-credits seems rather cheap. The others sang the refrains while he rested-all but Wingate; he was silent and thoughtful throughout.
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