and stroked my forehead
with her fingers.

"Darlin' Billy!" she whispered. "Yes! _Yes!_ I _can_ feel it!"

I'll say she could. My thrashing right arm pretty near knocked her
buck teeth out, and she retreated from my nervous system.

"You know what you did?" I asked, when the pain inside my head
subsided.

"Not really, Lefty," she admitted.

"You have a kind of telekinesis. It's the lightest touch of all, but
you applied it directly to my nerves. Perhaps you have some
unconscious way of stimulating my synapses, making my nerve centers
fire. I can't figure it out exactly. But my question is this, can you
feel your way all around inside my body?"

She recoiled a little. "That sounds awful," she said.

"I thought you were in love with me," I insisted, looking up at her
down-bent features. "Do you really have reservations about me?"

"No, Lefty. I love all of you."

"All right," I said, reaching up to stroke her cheek in time with the
music. "See if you can feel your way--lightly, now--down the same path
in my left arm."

She could, but not quite as lightly as I would have liked. We played
with it until nearly midnight, by which time she had used what I can
only call her sense of perception to feel her way through a good part
of my nerves and viscera. Some of it was exquisitely painful, but from
observing my flinching when she hurt me, Pheola pretty quickly found
out how to ignore the synapses that fired pain through my brain.

At last I raised my head from her lap. "You're doing great," I said.
"Do you feel tired?"

She shook her head. "Just excited," she breathed. "What a funny way to
get to know you!"

"Then we'll try one more thing, baby," I said. "Come on next door to
my place. There's some stuff over there I want you to work with."

* * * * *

I thought Pheola might boggle about going into my apartment, but she
came readily enough. I guess a PC has some pretty strong notions about
what is going to happen next.

Just to keep the mood the same, I turned on my hi-fi and drew the
loveseat up in front of the desk in my study. Pheola found a way to
sit closer to me than I would have imagined possible while I fished a
set of weights out of a drawer and laid them on the polished teak.

"Here's how it goes," I said to her, and TK'd the weights off the wood
one at a time. Anybody else would have gotten bug-eyed, but Pheola
just squinted to see better. Finally I made the big we