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of study, seems rather to approve of it."
"What I want to suggest to Mr. Rexford is a different principle entirely," I said. "I thought of it a few minutes ago."
"Ah. Care for a cigar?"
"No, thank you, sir. You see, I was discussing a different matter this morning with Dr. Eierkopf, and before that I'd been talking with Mr. Maurice Stoker. . ."
His eyes turned up from the end of his cigar. "I see. Eierkopf and Stoker."
I would have bade him please not to misunderstand me, that my strategy for the Quiet Riot was not derived from those gentlemen, though my conversation with them had inspired it. But as he repeated their names his eyes flashed over my shoulder and he jumped smiling to his feet, jamming the fresh cigar into an ashtray. I glanced doorwards and had presence enough of mind to rise quickly also as the Chancellor himself strode in, unannounced. His forelocked entourage pressed just outside, some with concerned expressions, others grinning like Rexford himself, whose visit to the office was apparently not expected.
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