They are not wanted." Quite nonchalantly he leaned back against the bookcase that lined the wall.

He turned his eyes to Robert.
"You have the luck of your race," he said "If that point had reached your skin no human skill could have saved you.

As it is, you are spared, and I must go.

The same blood flows in our veins, yet you are my enemy.

I wish I could once get my fingers round your throat before my strength fails." "Come from behind that table and try," was the quick rejoinder.
Ooma made to accept the challenge, but Brett intervened.
"If you are telling the truth," he said, "you can spend your brief remaining span of life to better purpose than in a mad combat with one who has done you no harm.