And why don't you get rid of that devilish pet of yours, and be good!" She looked at him, puzzled, Marakinoff leaned over, translated to Lugur.

The red dwarf smiled maliciously, drew near the priestess; whispered to her what was without doubt as near as he could come in the Murian to Larry's own very colloquial phrases.
Yolara's lips writhed.
"Hear me, Lakla!" she cried.

"Now would I not let you take this man from me were I to dwell ten thousand _laya_ in the agony of the _Yekta's_ kiss.

This I swear to you--by Thanaroa, by my heart, and by my strength--and may my strength wither, my heart rot in my breast, and Thanaroa forget me if I do!" "Listen, Yolara"-- began O'Keefe again.
"Be silent, you!" It was almost a shriek.

And her hand again sought in her breast for the cone of rhythmic death.
Lugur touched her arm, whispered again, The glint of guile shone in her eyes; she laughed softly, relaxed.
"The Silent Ones, Lakla, bade you say that they--allowed--me three _tal_ to decide," she said suavely.