 What words best describe Miss Webb?
But now, on Mercury, he was selling his guns into the weirdest of all his exploits—gambling his life against the soft touch of a woman's lips. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Summer 1945. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The song was a rollicking, ribald ditty, a favorite of the planters and miners, the space pilots and army officers who frequented the garden. There was perspiration on her upper lip and temples. Without looking up, he said: "Have you spotted him?" The night was very hot; but then it is always hot on Mercury, the newest, the wildest, the hottest of Earth's frontiers. "I did not want to call you in, Jaro Moynahan." The revolution is scheduled to break during the Festival of the Rains. Jaro Moynahan wiped the sweat from his forehead with a fine duraweb handkerchief. The Mercurians worship him. Jaro Moynahan refilled their empty glasses. The girl started, glanced at the pianist, said with a shiver: "We can't locate Karfial Hodes. "Ah," said Jaro Moynahan; "so that's the way it is." One moment the garden was glowing in light, the next the hot black night swooped down on the revelers, pressing against their eyes like dark wool. On the hot, teeming planet of Mercury it was as refreshing as a cold plunge. Peet controlled the Latonka trade for which there was a tremendous demand throughout the Universe. These yellow-eyed Mercurians could see as well in the dark as any alley-prowling cat. For centuries they had lived most their lives beneath ground to escape the terrible rays of the sun. Only at night did they emerge to work their fields and ply their trades. If the girl had been abducted, only Mercurians could have engineered it in the dark; and the Mercurians were a clannish lot. Somewhere in those rat-runs was Karfial Hodes, the revolutionist, and the girl. They were never visible, but to his trained ears there came stealthy, revealing noises: the brush of cloth against the baked earth walls, the sly shuffle of a step. Jaro Moynahan In the East a sullen red glow stained the heavens like the reflection of a fire. Once back in his room, Jaro Moynahan stripped off his clothes, unbuckled a shoulder holster containing a compressed air slug gun, stepped under the shower.
 witty and sarcastic
 secretive and manipulative  annoyed and rude  witty and sarcastic  careful and cautious