I stole back to my room and grinned at the tomato juice. Did you ever put a jigsaw together and get a flash of insight that made the pieces fall into place suddenly, completing the puzzle almost by itself? That pitcher of tomato juice was the last piece. Everything fit, including that. I would be able to tell my lie, and make Dr. Leopold Moriss believe it. Then--I would _help_ him. My wild laughter burst into my ears. By an effort of will I shut it off and climbed back into bed, simulating sleep, my ears tuned for the first sound of the doctor's coming. * * * * * The door opened. After a moment of suspense during which I kept my breathing slow and deep it closed softly. Padded footsteps came across the rug. "January!" The doctor's voice was impersonal and insistent. His hand was gripped on my shoulder, shaking me. "Why were you afraid, January?" I kept my eyes closed for a moment, mumbling protests. Inside I was laughing to myself, gloatingly. His voice was no longer torture. It was the senseless repetition of a parrot. Suddenly it angered me. I opened my eyes, glaring, a corner of my mind thrilling to the beautiful way my emotions were giving authenticity to my acting. "Why are you afraid, January?" the doctor repeated, his calm face hovering above me. I shoved his hand away, sneering at him, and sat up. The movement sent stabs of pain through my head. I gripped my head in my hands, groaning. "Drink this," Dr. Moriss ordered. I looked up. He was holding the glass of tomato juice toward me, the tomato juice containing something to make me sicker. I felt the sneering smile distort the sensitive skin of my face as I reached out deliberately and took the glass from him. I looked into his dead eyes while I lifted it to my lips. Then I drank it. I set the empty glass down on the stand. "Get out!" I rasped. "Leave me alone." "What made you afraid, January?" Suddenly nausea gripped me. Blindly I struggled out of bed to the bathroom. As I went I felt a bitter laughter welling up silently in my mind. "What made you afraid, January?" I was retching. That was genuine. I clamped my hands over my ears. That was acting, because Dr. Leopold Moriss had lost his power to torture me. "What made you afraid, January?" With an animal snarl I straightened and turned on him, my eyes blinded with tears produced by the retching, my chin wet with vomit. He caught my flailing arms easily, folding them over my chest and pinning me against the wall. "What made you afraid, January?" I began to cry. It was an act, but my condition made anything resembling crying come out authentic. I felt his hands drop from my arms. Still blubbering as though completely broken, I slid slowly to the tile floor, letting my head drop. "All right, I'll tell you," I said weakly. A chill shudder shook my body. I buried my face in my arms resting on my knees.