She was instantly contrite. "Oh Don, I won't! But why don't you do the hard work, and let me be the subject? Then if anything goes wrong, all your work won't be lost...." "Nuts. You know as much about it as I do. And besides, what if I accidentally picked up your emotional seat and found out what time Brannan _really_ brought you in last night?" "Maybe you'd be surprised." "I'd like to have Brannan under the machine," he said. "Maybe _you'd_ be surprised." "Mary Mason can take care of herself," she said. He looked at her. "Yeah, I guess you _can_. So, how about dinner tonight?" "Psychology class tonight." "Tomorrow night." "Choir practice." "Thursday." "Brannan." "Friday." "Washing and ironing." "Saturday and Sunday." "My days off." "Then do you mind if we get to work?" "That's what you hired me for." He bent over his machine and uttered something in a muffled voice. "What did you say?" she asked innocently. "I wouldn't repeat it for a lady's ears," he snapped. * * * * * "The pineal gland--the mystery gland of the human brain. Mystics call it the 'third eye.' Some say it is an atrophied eye, in the center of the forehead, others say it is a new sense man is developing, for use in the future." "Shut up and let me put this electrode in place," said Mary. She swabbed at his forehead with a piece of cotton dipped in alcohol. Then she placed a small pad of felt dipped in water over the spot, and placed the silver electrode over it, clamped it in place on his head. He grinned up at her. "Maybe when you turn on the power, and amplify the waves, I'll be able to read your mind." "You'd better not. Unless you want me to quit and go home to San Francisco." "What's the matter? Afraid to let anyone know what you're thinking?" "No," she said firmly. "I just think my thoughts are private, that's all." "Then what are you working on this thing with me for?" "We're measuring brain waves, charting patterns, recording reactions. All this stuff about mind-reading is purely imagination. If that's what you're working toward, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed." He shrugged. "Got the oscilloscope hooked up?" "Yes. And also the television screen and the camera. It'll amplify the wave patterns and project them ... and in your case I'm convinced they'll all be...." "Don't say it," he said hastily. "I don't need to read your brain waves to know what you're thinking." "Nor do I need this machine to know what you are usually thinking of," she finished. "Now lie down and relax. I'm going to give you the lowest voltage first. I still don't think you are right in saying there's no real danger." He lay back and closed his eyes. Swiftly she went about, making adjustments, turning rheostats, watching indications on meters with narrowed eyes. Then, with a final check over the entire apparatus, she switched on the machine to lowest voltage.