"Ah - the machine," says Leo, his face turning gray and slightly waxy. "I - yes it - uh."
"Ah, don't tell me," says Mr. Dubois, raising the hastily applied tarp. "I don't have my wife's love of machinery, but I do love a good mystery!"
"Is it a purifying machine?" asks Mr. Dubois.
"Uh - " begins Leo, but Dubois waves him down.
"No no, don't tell me, that would ruin the surprise."
Mr. Dubois inspects the device for several seconds while a bead of sweat trickles it's way down Leo's neck. It tickles, like someone tracing a line with a feather, but he doesn't dare brush it away. He feels like a rabbit staring down a fox, as though any movement might break the spell.
His boss peers at the machine and makes appreciative noises under his breath.
"Ah, don't tell me," says Mr. Dubois, raising the hastily applied tarp. "I don't have my wife's love of machinery, but I do love a good mystery!"
"Is it a purifying machine?" asks Mr. Dubois.
"Uh - " begins Leo, but Dubois waves him down.
"No no, don't tell me, that would ruin the surprise."
Mr. Dubois inspects the device for several seconds while a bead of sweat trickles it's way down Leo's neck. It tickles, like someone tracing a line with a feather, but he doesn't dare brush it away. He feels like a rabbit staring down a fox, as though any movement might break the spell.
His boss peers at the machine and makes appreciative noises under his breath.