“I have more bills to pay,” replied the Swagman easily. “And I might add that thanks to your little fit of pique on Darius Ten, I have four less killers than I had last month.” He smiled at the preacher. “You know, you’ve caused me so much inconvenience that I really ought to charge you for this meal.”

Father William grinned back at him. “I won’t ask you for a contribution to my poorbox, and we’ll call it even.”

“Agreed—as long as you don’t make a habit of decimating my supply of menials.”

“I’ll take any killer who’s got paper on him!” said Father William firmly, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then tying it around his neck like a bib.

The Swagman shrugged. “Serves me right for not checking them out better. Still, by taking them when you did, you cost me the possession of a shipment of art objects from Nelson Seventeen. I do wish you could have waited another week before you went on your killing spree.”

“Hah!” muttered Father William, pushing his empty dish away and signaling the robot to bring him another.

The Swagman turned to Virtue. “Never don the cloth,” he said with mock seriousness. “It drains away all compassion for your fellow man.”

“You don’t seem especially upset about losing four men,” remarked Virtue.

“They were just men; I can always get more,” he replied nonchalantly. “It was losing the pieces that hurt. There was a hand-spun Kinrossian bowl that...” He sighed and shook his head, then looked up. “Still, I suppose our friend here must score points with his God from time to time.”

“You keep talking blasphemy,” said Father William harshly, “and I just may forget that all that paper on you doesn’t mention murder.”

“You don’t really think you can harm me in my own house, do you?” said the Swagman, vastly amused. “Don’t talk such nonsense, or pretty soon you’ll start believing it and then we’ll all be sorry. Especially you.”

The preacher stared at him for a moment, then went back to demolishing the food in front of him.

Virtue finished her appetizer, and the instant she did a robot whisked the empty plate away from her.

“They’re very efficient,” she said, indicating the retreating robot as well as a trio that were bringing out the main course. “I would think that household robots would cost an arm and a leg out on the Frontier.”

“They do,” agreed the Swagman. “Fortunately, it wasn’t my arm or leg that paid for them.”

“Totally immoral,” muttered Father William between mouthfuls.