"He might rent them out," said Sutton.
"You mean," asked Case, "that you might be interested in a dozen planets?"
"No, I don't," Sutton told him. "Pringle wondered what a man would do with a dozen planets and I was being helpful. I said…"
Pringle leaned so far forward in his chair that he almost fell on his face.
"Look," he said, "we aren't talking about one of the backwoods planets out at the tail end of nowhere. We're offering you a landscaped planet, free of all venomous and disgusting life, with a salubrious climate and tractable natives and all the customary living accommodations and improvements."
"And the money," said Case, "to keep it running for the rest of your life."
"Right spang in the middle of the galaxy," said Pringle. "It's an address you wouldn't be ashamed of."
"I'm not interested," said Sutton.
Case's temper cracked.
"Good Lord, man, what is it that you want?"