 What ultimately revealed the true identity of the Venusian delegate to Jerry?
The DELEGATE FROM VENUS By HENRY SLESAR ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK Everybody was waiting to see what the delegate from Venus looked like. One part of his mind wanted him to play it cagey, to behave the way the newspaper wanted him to behave, to protect the cozy Washington assignment he had waited four years to get. They split off a few blocks later, and Jerry walked until he came to the Red Tape Bar & Grill, a favorite hangout of the local journalists. There had been hourly conferences at the White House, flying visits by State Department officials, mysterious conferences involving members of the Science Commission. In a secluded booth at the rear of a restaurant unfrequented by newsmen, Greta leaned forward and said: "At first, they thought it was another sputnik." They got reports from the observatories about another sputnik being launched by the Russians. "A spaceship," Greta said coolly, sipping lemonade. "They have been in contact with it now for about three days, and they're thinking of calling a plenary session of the UN just to figure out what to do about it. The spaceship's from Venus; they've already established that. "Their delegate. They say that with all the satellites being launched, that our affairs are their affairs, too. The press secretary's secretary, a massive woman with gray hair and impervious to charm, guarded the portals of his office with all the indomitable will of the U. S. Marines.
 It's opening monologue
 It's opening monologue  The origin of its materials  Notes that Greta stole from a source  Its style of self-destruction