Well, that was one of the privileges
of authority: delegating fault. He started for the door.
"Lee! Hold it a minute; I want to talk to you, alone."
Rynason sat, and when all the others had gone Manning came back and sat
down opposite him. He slowly took out a cigaret and lit it.
"My last pack till the next spacer makes touchdown," he said. "Sorry I
can't offer you one, but I'm a fiend for the things. I know they're
supposed to be non-habit-forming these days, but I'm a man of many
vices."
Rynason shrugged, waiting for him to come to the point.
"I guess it makes me a bit more open-minded about what the members of my
staff do," Manning went on. "You know--why should I crack down on
drinking or smoking, for instance, when I do it myself?"
"I'm glad you see it that way," Rynason said drily. "Why did you want me
to stay?"
Manning exhaled a long plume of smoke slowly, watching it through
narrowed eyes. "Well, even though I'm pretty easy going about things, I
do try to keep an eye on you. When you come right down to it, I'm
responsible for every man who's with me out here.
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