Manchurian Books

And as it progressed I
was more and more struck by the change in the O'Keefe. All flippancy
was gone, rarely did his sense of humour reveal itself in any of his
answers. He was like a cautious swordsman, fencing, guarding, studying
his opponent; or rather, like a chess-player who keeps sensing some
far-reaching purpose in the game: alert, contained, watchful. Always
he stressed the power of our surface races, their multitudes, their
solidarity.
Their questions were myriad. What were our occupations? Our system of
government? How great were the waters? The land? Intensely interested
were they in the World War, querying minutely into its causes, its
effects. In our weapons their interest was avid. And they were
exceedingly minute in their examination of us as to the ruins which
had excited our curiosity; their position and surroundings--and if
others than ourselves might be expected to find and pass through their
entrance!
At this I shot a glance at Lugur. He did not seem unduly interested.


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