"I probably haven't the language to read your exact thoughts," Zitts assured her. "Shall I tell you how I knew your purpose in coming here?" "By all means." "Look closely at the vision. It is smiling serenely to itself. That's you a few minutes before you entered this office. That pleased expression means you have just conceived a bright idea, probably thinking you could palm off a ton of gold on me." "But I never--" "Observe there where Zoo's claws are pointing. A man approaches. Now look at your own face. You have suddenly remembered that one of your husbands is dead and the other is in the hands of the ratcatchers, and you are supposed to register sorrow. You do but it's feigned. Your thoughts are more on the way the man is staring at your figure. Watch! Now you're swaying your hips gracefully. Very nice! Now look! The man has passed you, glanced back once to see if you are still waving your hips, and gone on. You are no longer waving your shape. You're thoughtful again. Oh, oh! You've turned on the waves again. Another man must be approaching. There he is, sure enough. That's why you're blinking your eyes now, to call attention to your long lashes. That will stop as soon as he passes, but your hips will wave a trifle more until you're certain he's out of range." "Stop! Stop this minute," the blonde cried. "You're just making up all that." * * * * * Zitts shrugged. "My dear Mrs. Brown and Smith, if you do not care to know how I learned of the purpose of your visit here, it is quite all right with me. No charge whatever for this interview. Zoo will show you to the corridor." "B-but--but I do. But you don't have to go into all of a woman's secrets." "Secrets?" Zitts lifted his hand a trifle, then let it fall, which inadvertently plunged the room into darkness and caused a grim voice to growl, "Don't move! I'll burn you in your tracks!" He corrected this at once, reassured the woman and briefly explained: "I often interview desperate characters in this room, Martians, Saturnians and even politicians. Have to protect myself." "What were you saying about secrets?" the woman prodded with curiosity which had not evolved very much in ten thousand years. "Secrets?" Zitts repeated. "I wonder! Most actions and reactions are as obvious as the thoughts behind them. Secrets? I sometimes doubt there is such a thing. Shall I tell you what you are thinking now?" The woman blushed, shook her head. "Please don't. I'll try not to wish I could claw your eyes out anymore. Just go ahead and investigate my husband's death."