"It's all right," the little old lady put in from her chair. "I don't mind your calling me Miss Thompson, not right now, anyhow." "Thanks," Malone said faintly. Dr. Harman was blinking in a kind of befuddled astonishment. "You mean she really _is_ a--" He stopped and brought his tenor voice to a squeaking halt, regained his professional poise, and began again. "I'd rather not discuss the patient in her presence, Mr. Malone," he said. "If you'll just come into my office--" "Oh, _bosh_, Dr. Harman," the little old lady said primly. "I do wish you'd give your own Queen credit for some ability. Goodness knows you think _you're_ smart enough." "Now, now, Miss Thompson," he said in what was obviously his best Grade A Choice Government Inspected couchside manner. "Don't...." "... Upset yourself," she finished for him. "Now, really, doctor. I know what you're going to tell them." "But Miss Thompson, I--" "You didn't honestly think I _was_ a telepath," the little old lady said. "Heavens, we know that. And you're going to tell them how I used to say I could read minds ... oh, years and years ago. And because of that you thought it might be worth while to tell the FBI about me--which wasn't very kind of you, doctor, before you knew anything about why they wanted somebody like me." * * * * * "Now, now, Miss Thompson," Miss Wilson said, walking across the room to put an arm around the little old lady's shoulder. Malone wished for one brief second that he were the old little old lady. Maybe if he were a patient in the hospital he would get the same treatment. He wondered if he could possibly work such a deal. Then he wondered if it would be worth while, being nuts. But of course it would. He was nuts anyhow, wasn't he? Sure, he told himself. They were all nuts. "Nobody's going to hurt you," Miss Wilson said. She was talking to the old lady. "You'll be perfectly all right and you don't have to worry about a thing." "Oh, yes, dear, I know that," the little old lady said. "You only want to help me, dear. You're so kind. And these FBI men really don't mean any harm. But Dr. Harman didn't know that. He just thinks I'm crazy and that's all." "Please, Miss Thompson--" Dr. Harman began. "Just crazy, that's all," the little old lady said. She turned away for a second and nobody said anything. Then she turned back. "Do you all know what he's thinking now?" she said. Dr. Harman turned a dull purple, but she ignored him. "He's wondering why I didn't take the trouble to prove all this to you years ago. And besides that, he's thinking about--" [Illustration] "Miss Thompson," Dr. Harman said. His bedside manner had cracked through and his voice was harsh and strained. "Please." "Oh, all right," she said, a little petulantly. "If you want to keep all that private." Malone broke in suddenly, fascinated. "Why didn't you prove you were telepathic before now?" he said.