4 Iris occupied several rooms on the second floor of a brownstone in a street with, pleasantest of New York anachronisms, trees. When I entered, she was doing yogi exercises on the floor, sitting crosslegged on a mat, her slender legs in leotards and her face flushed with strain. “It just doesn’t work for me!” she said and stood up without embarrassment for, since I’d found the main door unlocked, I’d opened this one too, without knocking. “I’m sorry, Iris, the downstairs door was....” “Don’t be silly.” She rolled up the mat efficiently. “I was expecting you but I lost track of time ... which means it must be working a little. I’ll be right back.” She went into the bedroom and I sat down, amused by this unexpected side to Iris: I wondered if perhaps she was a devotee of wheat germ and mint tea as well. She claimed not. “It’s the only real exercise I get,” she said, changed now to a heavy robe which completely swathed her figure as she sat curled up in a great armchair, drinking Scotch, as did I, the winter outside hid by drawn curtains, by warmth and light. “Have you done it long?” “Oh, off and on for years. I never get anywhere but it’s very restful and I’ve felt so jittery lately that anything which relaxes me ...” her voice trailed off idly. She seemed relaxed now. “I’ve been to see Paul,” I began importantly. “Ah.” But I could not, suddenly, generate sufficient anger to speak out with eloquence. I went around my anger stealthily, a murderer stalking his victim. “We disagreed.” “In what?” “In everything, I should say.” “That’s so easy with Paul.” Iris stretched lazily; ice chattered in her glass; a car’s horn melodious and foreign sounded in the street below. “We need him. If it wasn’t Paul, it might be someone a great deal worse. At least he’s intelligent and devoted. That makes up for a lot.” “I don’t think so; Iris, he’s establishing a sort of supermarket, short-order church for the masses.” She laughed delightedly. “I like that ... and, in a way, you’re right: that’s what he _would_ do left to himself.” “He seems in complete control.” “Only of the office. John makes all the decisions.” “I wish I could be sure of that.” “You’ll see on Friday. You’ll be at the meeting, won’t you?” I nodded. “I have a feeling that between Paul and Stokharin this thing is going to turn into a world-wide clinic for mental health.” “I expect worse things _could_ happen, but Paul must still contend with me and you and of course the final word is with John.” “How is Cave, by the way? I haven’t seen him since the night of the first telecast.” “Quite relaxed, unlike the rest of us. You should come out with me one day to Long Island and see him. I go nearly every day for a few hours. He’s kept completely removed from everyone except the servants and Paul and me.” “Does he like that?”