itimate livelihood.
There is not much more to tell."

"Can you actually read minds?" Bennett asked insistently.

"I can."

"Then what am I thinking now?"

"You are thinking," Lima said, with no semblance of a trance or any of
the other usual antics of professional mystics, "that I look exactly
like a woman you have never seen, but whose image you have carried in
your mind since your childhood."

For just a moment, the startling accuracy disconcerted Bennett.

"I have a problem which is quite annoying," he pushed on almost
frantically. "Can you tell me what my problem is?"

"You have been subject to extremely severe headaches, which you have
been unable to remedy, either by sedatives or with the help of a
neurologist. Am I correct?"

"More than you could possibly know! Look, I came here believing you
were a fake. That didn't matter--it was the fact that you looked like
this other woman that counted. I'm convinced now. I want your help.
Can you help me, or at least tell me whether the neurologist is right
about the cause of my headaches?"

"He is wrong," Lima said. "I can tell you what causes them, but I am
afraid that I will have to ask for another hundred dollars for that
extra service."

Bennett was momentarily irritated at this evidence that their
relationship, at least as far as she was concerned, was strictly
business. But he shrugged off the feeling. He drew five twenty-dollar
bills from his pocketbook and placed them on the table before her.

"If you remember," Lima said, folding the money carefully and tucking
it into the neck of her dress, "five months ago a building which you
had contracted to build fell, when it was nearly completed, and two
workmen were killed."

"I remember very well."

"You found that the collapse of the building was caused by faulty
material which you had bought through a subcontractor. You are still
investigating to determine where to place the blame, and are on the
point of doing so."

"Go on," Bennett breathed softly.

"You are quite certain that the person responsible is John Tournay,
ostensibly a reputable contractor, but actually an unscrupulous
scoundrel. You have a choice of exposing him, with great personal
danger to yourself--Tournay is a dangerous and ruthless man--or
remaining silent and knowing that you are a coward. The difficulty of
that choice is causing your headaches."

"You may be right," Bennett admitted without hesitation. "I haven't
had time to