He went down and hailed an aircab which took him to the far side of the city. He alighted and read for the third or fourth time the instructions Soleri had written on the card. He located the entrance without difficulty and went in. Normally, he supposed, there would be a receptionist in the lobby. He didn’t see one. It was not important, for Soleri had cleared the way for him. He ascended three flights of stairs, walked around a turn at the corridor, and there he was--in front of Soleri’s office. It would be just his luck to find that he had arrived too early. But there was definitely someone in the office. He conquered his trepidation and went in. Soleri smiled and came toward him from behind the desk. His hand was extended and he was laughing. It was friendly laughter, and Talbot could sense the friendliness. But he was unemployed, and for that reason he resented it. “My God,” said Soleri. “If we looked anything alike we’d be twins.” Talbot stared intently, reviewing and adding to his original impressions of the other. They were within an inch and a pound of each other. Moreover they now wore identical suits and identical shoes and if there was a difference in their ties and shirts, it would have taken an expert to detect it. Talk about empathy! Soleri really had it. But actually they didn’t resemble each other at all. Soleri’s hair was black, and Talbot’s was brown. Soleri’s eyes were dark, Talbot’s gray. Viewed from the back with a hat on they were indistinguishable. But face to face no one could have mistaken one for the other. “It’s an impressive trick,” Soleri chuckled. “If you’re trying to convince me you’re good--relax. I believe it.” “I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” said Talbot. Soleri looked at him keenly. “You probably aren’t,” he said. “It ties in.” Talbot blinked. “Are you saying it’s _my_ empathy? One point four or five isn’t _that_ good. Your own index must be zero point ninety-five.” “How did you know?” said Soleri. “I never told you.” “Why--” began Talbot, and stopped. How _had_, he known? It was one thing to think you knew, quite another to be always right. Something was startlingly out of place. Empathy measurements started in adolescence. Before then the body was in a state of flux. It was still building, exploring. It did not have the experience on which to base valid opinions. The adolescent was primarily aware of himself. He scarcely knew why he thought and felt the way he did, and had no time to encompass the emotions of others. But as he matured and some of his own problems became settled, an increasing awareness grew in him. He became better able to anticipate and participate in the feelings of others. Not merely to react to them, but to feel them as if they were his own. After adolescence the ability to identify with others continued to increase--rapidly at first, and then more slowly. Plotted out as age against understanding, the curve resembled an hyperbola reaching for the asymptote.