The old man smiled for the first time, at something that his eyes saw behind the white plaster of the far wall. Finally, Stallings rose to leave. Buttoning himself up, he said: "You'll send the bill?" Dr. Needzak laughed genially. "I can see that you aren't accustomed to visiting doctors, young man. The better the doctor, the more risky it is to send the bill. My policy is to request full payment before the patient leaves the office, just in case I've given the right sort of advice. In cases where I prescribe medicine, of course, you may pay for the prescription and the consultation fee simultaneously. Before taking the medicine, you understand." Again he laughed. "I understand. I should have guessed. I work in a bank myself. I hate the work. I'm tired of everything, in fact. But I know how important it is to pay promptly." The doctor had just filed away Stallings' physical record when the receptionist ushered in an extremely elderly woman. Dr. Needzak smiled broadly, and said: "Mrs. Watkins! I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He waved in annoyance at the receptionist, who hovered behind the new patient. She left, reluctantly. Mrs. Watkins groped her way to the chair, wincing when the receptionist slammed the door. The old woman rubbed her bony forehead with a mottled hand that trembled and said: "I know that I wasn't supposed to come back for another three months. But did you realize that I'll have my 190th birthday before those three months are up? When a person gets to be that old, she looks forward to seeing the doctor more than she used to look forward for Santa to arrive back in the old days." "No symptoms since your last visit?" Dr. Needzak spoke more loudly than usual in deference to her failing hearing, and turned up the light to aid weak, old eyes. "None." She spat out the word. "I'm going to change doctors, if this keeps up. I've heard of a couple of doctors who aren't as scrupulous as you are. After living all this time, I think that I could be permitted one little crime, lying to them about a symptom. Then I know that I'd be made happy. What's the use being moral when you're too frail and tottery to enjoy life?" Dr. Needzak shook his head, disapprovingly. "I don't think you're quite as miserable as you think you are. Don't go to those quack doctors. Suppose you're caught, halfway through a crime? You might linger for decades, half-well, half-sick, from the effects of what they'd give you. Even the quacks won't supply you with strychnine, you know." "I know. I shouldn't have suggested it. But I get so tired of living." "Well, I can't see any physical trouble that could have developed enough to warrant a complete exam since your last one. Maybe those arteries will start hardening by the time you have that 190th birthday. Or you could take up chemistry as a hobby. Just think what a fine explosion you might get mixed up in!"