He shrugged. Ignoring me, he put down the toaster on a stick, flipped some switches and stood up. A whining sound dwindled and disappeared; some flickering lights went out. Others remained on, but he seemed to feel that, whatever it was he was doing, it didn't require his attention now. In his own good time, he came over and we shook hands. I said appreciatively, "Nice-looking laboratory you have here, Greek. I don't know what the stuff is for, but it looks expen--it looks very efficient." He grunted. "It is. Both. Expensive and efficient." I laughed. "Say," I said, "you were pretty loaded last night. Know what you told me you were doing here?" He looked up quickly. "What?" "You said you were in transmutation." I laughed harder than ever. * * * * * He stared at me thoughtfully, and for a second I thought--well, I don't know what I thought, but I was worried. He had a lot of funny-looking things there, and his hand was stretching out toward one of them. But then he said, "Old Virgie." "That's me," I said eagerly. "I owe you an apology," he went on. "You do?" He nodded. "I'd forgotten," he confessed, ashamed. "I didn't remember until just this minute that you were the one I talked to in my senior year. My only confidant. And you've kept my secret all this time." I coughed. "It was nothing," I said largely. "Don't give it a thought." He nodded in appreciation. "That's just like you," he reminisced. "Ten years, eh? And you haven't breathed a word, have you?" "Not a word," I assured him. And it was no more than the truth. I hadn't said a word to anybody. I hadn't even said a word to myself. The fact of the matter was, I had completely forgotten what he was talking about. Kept his secret? I didn't even _remember_ his secret. And it was driving me nuts! "I was sure of you," he said, suddenly thawing. "I knew I could trust you. I must have--otherwise I certainly wouldn't have told you, would I?" I smiled modestly. But inside I was fiercely cudgeling my brain. He said suddenly, "All right, Virgie. You're entitled to something for having kept faith. I tell you what I'll do--I'll let you in on what I'm doing here." All at once, the little muscles at the back of my neck began to tense up. He would do _what_? "Let me in" on something? It was an unpleasantly familiar phrase. I had used it myself all too often. "To begin with," said the Greek, focusing attentively on me, "you wonder, perhaps, what I was doing when you came in." "I do," I said. He hesitated. "Certain--particles, which are of importance to my research, have a tendency to go free. I can keep them under a measure of control only by means of electrostatic forces, generated in this." He waved the thing that looked like a toaster on a stick. "And as for what they do--well, watch." * * * * *