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"
By
the
way
,
are
you
through
with
me
in
my
professional
capacity
?
"
"
Huh
?
Oh
,
sure
.
Thanks
,
Mr
.
Cavendish
.
"
"
Thank
you
,
sir
.
It
was
an
interesting
assignment
.
"
The
old
gentleman
took
off
the
cloak
that
set
him
apart
from
ordinary
mortals
,
folded
it
carefully
and
laid
it
on
the
seat
.
He
sighed
,
relaxed
,
and
his
features
lost
professional
detachment
,
warmed
and
mellowed
.
He
took
out
cigars
,
offered
them
to
the
others
;
Frisby
took
one
and
they
shared
a
light
.
"
I
do
not
smoke
,
"
Cavendish
remarked
through
a
thick
cloud
,
"
while
on
duty
.
It
interferes
with
optimum
functioning
of
the
senses
.
"
"
If
I
had
been
able
to
bring
along
a
crew
member
of
the
Champion
,
"
Caxton
persisted
,
"
I
could
have
tied
it
down
.
But
I
thought
surely
I
could
tell
.
"
"
I
must
admit
,
"
remarked
Cavendish
,
"
that
I
was
a
little
surprised
at
one
thing
you
did
not
do
.
"
"
Huh
?
What
did
I
miss
?
"
"
Calluses
"
"
Calluses
?
"
"
Surely
.
A
man
’
s
life
history
can
be
told
from
his
calluses
.
I
once
did
a
monograph
on
them
,
published
in
The
Witness
Quarterly
-
like
Sherlock
Holmes
’
famous
monograph
on
tobacco
ash
.
This
young
man
from
Mars
since
he
has
never
worn
our
sort
of
shoes
and
has
lived
in
gravity
about
one
third
of
ours
,
should
display
foot
calluses
consonant
with
his
former
environment
.
Even
the
time
he
recently
spent
in
space
should
have
left
their
traces
.
Very
interesting
.
"
