pain
that I have been forced to remain in my cabin.

"I have had no one to talk to except the steward who brings me my meals,
and, as he is the one whom I met on the stairs, he has little to say. In
the morning he frowns at me, at noon he glowers, and in the evening he
remarks hopefully, 'Foot still pretty bad?' Thus, I'm starved for
conversation."

[Illustration]

Lenore smiled at this earnest speech. "I might talk with you for a
minute or two, but you must admit that you have one advantage over me.
You can see me, or so you say, and know what I look like, but I can't
see you. It isn't fair."

"I can show myself to you," he said, "but you'll have to help me by
closing your eyes and concentrating very hard."

* * * * *

She closed her eyes and waited expectantly. There was a moment of
darkness; then there appeared in the middle of the darkness a point of
light, a globe, a giant balloon of color. Suddenly she was looking into
the corner of a stateroom which appeared to hang in space. In the center
of the area stood a handsome young man in a startling black and orange
lounging robe, holding on to the back of a chair.

She opened her eyes; for an instant the vision of the young telepath
hung in the air over her couch like a ghostly double exposure. Then it
faded and the room was empty.

"That's a terrible effort," came his thought, "particularly when I have
to balance on one foot at the same time. Well, now are we even?"

Abandoning her post by the door, she moved to the couch and sat down.
"I'm really disappointed," she smiled. "I was sure you'd have two heads.
But I think you do have nice eyes and a terrible taste in bathrobes."
She took a cigarette from her case and lit it carefully. Then she
remembered her manners and extended the case to the empty air. "Won't
you have one?"

"I certainly would like to. I'm all out of them until the steward brings
my dinner. But I'm afraid I'll have to wait, unless you can blow the
smoke through the ventilators to me, or unless ... you bring me one?"

Lenore blushed and changed the subject. "Tell me, what do you do all day
in your stateroom? Do you read? Do you play the flute? Do you telepath
sweet nothings across the light-years to your girl friend on Dekker's
star?"

"I'm afraid my telepathic powers are a bit short-ranged to reach
Dekker's star," he replied. "Besides, what girl would commune with me
through the depths of space when some