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Kynes
pressed
a
finger
against
the
suit
’
s
forehead
pad
,
said
:
“
This
may
rub
a
little
.
If
it
irritates
you
,
please
tell
me
.
I
could
slit
-
patch
it
a
bit
tighter
.
”
“
My
thanks
,
”
the
Duke
said
.
He
moved
his
shoulders
in
the
suit
as
Kynes
stepped
back
,
realizing
that
it
did
feel
better
now
—
tighter
and
less
irritating
.
Kynes
turned
to
Paul
.
“
Now
,
let
’
s
have
a
look
at
you
,
lad
.
”
A
good
man
but
he
’
ll
have
to
learn
to
address
us
properly
,
the
Duke
thought
.
Paul
stood
passively
as
Kynes
inspected
the
suit
.
It
had
been
an
odd
sensation
putting
on
the
crinkling
,
slick
-
surfaced
garment
.
In
his
foreconsciousness
had
been
the
absolute
knowledge
that
he
had
never
before
worn
a
stillsuit
.
Yet
,
each
motion
of
adjusting
the
adhesion
tabs
under
Gurney
’
s
inexpert
guidance
had
seemed
natural
,
instinctive
.
When
he
had
tightened
the
chest
to
gain
maximum
pumping
action
from
the
motion
of
breathing
,
he
had
known
what
he
did
and
why
.
When
he
had
fitted
the
neck
and
forehead
tabs
tightly
,
he
had
known
it
was
to
prevent
friction
blisters
.
Kynes
straightened
,
stepped
back
with
a
puzzled
expression
.
“
You
’
ve
worn
a
stillsuit
before
?
”
he
asked
.
“
This
is
the
first
time
.
”
“
Then
someone
adjusted
it
for
you
?
”
“
No
.
”
