ld get the same treatment.

He wondered if he could possibly work such a deal.

Then he wondered if it would be worthwhile, being nuts. But of course
it would. He was nuts anyhow, wasn't he?

Sure, he told himself. They were all nuts.

"Nobody's going to hurt you," Miss Wilson said. She was talking to the
old lady. "You'll be perfectly all right and you don't have to worry
about a thing."

"Oh, yes, dear, I know that," the little old lady said. "You only want
to help me, dear. You're so kind. And these FBI men really don't mean
any harm. But Doctor Harman didn't know that. He just thinks I'm crazy
and that's all."

"Please, Miss Thompson--" Dr. Harman began.

"Just crazy, that's all," the little old lady said. She turned away
for a second and nobody said anything.

Then she turned back. "Do you all know what he's thinking now?" she
said. Dr. Harman turned a dull purple, but she ignored him. "He's
wondering why I didn't take the trouble to prove all this to you years
ago. And besides that, he's thinking about--"

"Miss Thompson," Dr. Harman said. His bedside manner had cracked
through and his voice was harsh and strained. "Please."

"Oh, all right," she said, a little petulantly. "If you want to keep
all that private."

Malone broke in suddenly, fascinated. "Why didn't you prove you were
telepathic before now?" he said.

The little old lady smiled at him. "Why, because you wouldn't have
believed me," she said. She dropped her knitting neatly in her lap and
folded her hands over it. '"None of you _wanted_ to believe me," she
said, and sniffed. Miss Wilson moved nervously and she looked up. "And
don't tell me it's going to be all right. I know it's going to be all
right. I'm going to make sure of that."

Malone felt a sudden chill. But it was obvious, he told himself, that
the little old lady didn't mean what she was saying. She smiled at him
again, and her smile was as sweet and guileless as the smile on the
face of his very own sainted grandmother.

Not that Malone remembered his grandmother; she had died before he'd
been born. But if he'd had a grandmother, and if he'd remembered her,
he was sure she would have had the same sweet smile.

So she couldn't have meant what she'd said. Would Malone's own
grandmother make things difficult for him? The very idea was
ridiculous.

Dr. Harman opened his mouth, apparently changed his mind, and shut it
again. The little old lady turned to him.

"Were you goin