CHAPTER IIIINTERIOR: Kenilworth’s laboratory. One week later. Close shot.
Kathleen and Neal Baker strolled between tables of working equipment—microscopes, electrical stimulators, intricately twisted apparatus, masses of flesh in their glass containers. A heavy odor of formaldehyde, ozone, and less pleasant things made the girl use her scent bottle often. Behind the two Blaze Argyle wandered disconsolately.
The old-timer was unhappy. Films had changed since his day. Too much faking. Ten years ago a man had to have backbone to star in Interplanetaries. But now, with double exposures, montage, telephoto lenses and robots, any ham could be a hero.
But Argyle wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. He sympathized with Quade, who had been having a hard time of it. Especially the way Kathleen and B
