Oliver reached out and, after a moment's hesitation in which he seemed unsure whether to shake Miss Murray's hand or kiss it, decided apparently upon the former.  His right arm was apparently hale and healthy, and very human, rather unlike the clicking, hissing, clockwork limb of his left.<br/><br/>He absorbed the conversation like an observer at a tennis match, watching the repartee swing back and forth, well aware that there were undercurrents there to which he was not privy.  "Very good," he said, in response to Miss Murray's imprecation.  "Perhaps I can design some sort of mechanism, some sort of clockwork...broom...pusher.  Yes, I can see it, an arrangement of gears and belts, with a revolving flange arrangement..."<br/><br/>He lapsed into thought, already sketching out designs and schematics in his mind.