"Oh, yes, you're coming over very clear!" said Mrs. Dunny. "Try this one," I said. "A princess is any daughter of a sovereign. What is a princess royal?" "The eldest daughter of a sovereign," she said. "Correct! How about this one? Is a Kodiak a kind of simple box camera; a type of double-bowed boat; or a type of Alaskan bear?" "A bear," said Mrs. Dunny. "Very good," I said. "That was a hard one." I asked her seven more questions and she got them all right. None of the other contestants even came close to her score, so I wound up giving her the gas range and a lot of other smaller prizes. After we were off the air I followed the audience out into the hall. Mrs. Dunny was walking towards the lobby with an old paper shopping bag under her arm. An attendant was following her with an armful of prizes. I caught up with her before she reached the door. "Mrs. Dunny," I said, and she turned around. "I want to talk to you." "When do I get the gas stove?" she said. "Your local dealer will send it to you in a few days. Did you give them your address?" "Yes, I gave it to them. My Philadelphia address, that is. I don't even remember my address at home any more." "Come, now, Mrs. Dunny. You don't have to keep up that Mars business now that we're off the air." "It's the truth and I didn't come here just by accident," said Mrs. Dunny, looking over her shoulder toward the attendant who was still holding the prizes. "I came here to see you." "Me?" Mrs. Dunny set the paper bag down on the floor and dug down into her pocketbook. She took out a dog-eared piece of white paper and bent it up in her hand. "Yes," she said finally. "I came to see you. And you didn't follow me out here because you wanted to. I commanded you to come." "Commanded me to come!" I spluttered. "What for?" "To prove something to you. Do you see this piece of paper?" She held out the paper in her hand with the blank side toward me. "My address is on this paper. I am reading the address. Concentrate on what I'm reading." I looked at her. I concentrated. Suddenly, I knew. "Two fifty-one South Eighth Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania," I said aloud. "You see, it's very easy once you get the hang of it," she said. I nodded and smiled down at her. Now I understood. I picked up her bag and put my hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," I said. "We have a lot to talk about." Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ November 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.