Raych was eating, licking his fingers, and crumpling¹ the bag in which the food--whatever it was--had been. A strong smell of onions pervaded² the air--different somehow, yeast-based perhaps.
Dors, retreating a little from the odor, said, "Where did you get the food from, Raych?"
"Davans guys. They brought it to me. Davans okay."
"Then we dont have to buy you dinner, do we?" said Seldon, conscious of his own empty stomach.
"Ya owe me somethin," said Raych, looking greedily in Dorss direction. "How about the ladys knife? One of em."
"No knife," said Dors. "You get us back safely and Ill give you five credits."
"Cant³ get no knife for five credits," grumbled⁴ Raych.
"Youre not getting anything but five credits," said Dors.
"Youre a lousy dame⁵, lady," said Raych.
"Im a lousy dame with a quick knife, Raych, so get moving."
"All right. Dont get all perspired⁶." Raych waved his hand. "This way."
It was back through the empty corridors, but this time Dors, looking this way and that, stopped. "Hold on, Raych. Were being followed."
Raych looked exasperated⁷. "Ya aint supposed to hear em."
Seldon said, bending his head to one side, "I dont hear anything."
"I do," said Dors. "Now, Raych, I dont want any fooling around. You tell me right now whats going on or Ill rap your head so that you wont⁸ see straight for a week. I mean it."
Raych held up one arm defensively. "You try it, you lousy dame. You try it. Its Davans guys. Theyre just taking care of us, in case any knifers come along."
"Davans guys?"
"Yeah. Theyre goin along the service corridors."

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