course, Mr. Malone," she said. There was a little silence.

"Miss Wilson," Malone said, "what _is_ your first name?"

She smiled now, very gently. Malone wanted to walk through mountains,
or climb fire. He felt confused, but wonderful. "Barbara," she said.

"Lovely," he said. "Well, Barbara--and please call me Ken. It's short
for Kenneth."

The smile on her face broadened. "I thought it might be," she said.

"Well," Malone said softly, "it is. Kenneth. That's my name. And
you're Barbara."

Boyd cleared his throat.

"Ah," Malone said. "Yes. Of course. Well, Barbara--well, that's just
what we intend to do. Take Miss Thompson away. We need her--badly."

Dr. Harman had said nothing at all, and had barely moved. He was
staring at a point on his desk. "She couldn't possibly have heard us,"
he muttered. "That's a soundproof door. She couldn't have heard us."

"But you can't take Miss Thompson away," Miss Wilson said.

"We have to, Barbara," Malone said gently. "Try to understand. It's
for the national security."

"She heard us thinking," Dr. Harman muttered. "That's what; she heard
us thinking. Behind a soundproof door. She can see inside their minds.
She can even see inside _my_ mind."

"She's a sick woman," Barbara said. "But you have to understand--"

"Vital necessity," Boyd put in. "Absolutely vital."

"Nevertheless--" Barbara said. "She can read minds," Dr. Harman
whispered in an awed tone. "She knows. Everything. She _knows_."

"It's out of the question," Barbara said. "Whether you like it or not,
Miss Thompson is not going to leave this hospital. Why, what could she
do outside these walls? She hasn't left in over forty years! And
furthermore, Mr. Malone--"

"Kenneth," Malone put in, as the door opened again. "I mean Ken."

The little old lady put her haloed head into the room. "Now, now,
Barbara," she said. "Don't you go spoiling things. Just let these nice
men take me away and everything will be fine, believe me. Besides,
I've been outside more often then you imagine."

"Outside?" Barbara said.

"Of course," the little old lady said. "In other people's minds. Even
yours. I remember that nice young man--what was his name?--"

"Never mind his name," Barbara said, flushing furiously.

Malone felt instantly jealous of every nice young man he had ever even
heard of. _He_ wasn't a nice young man; he was an FBI agent, and he
liked to get drunk and smoke cigars and carouse with loose women.
Anyway, rea