Her expression became wary, shifting instantly to petulance. She reached over and put one hand on my arm. "Why do you want to leave me, Bill?"
I tried to explain, but she couldn't or wouldn't understand.
I tried another tack. "Why are you afraid of Kohnke?" I asked. My theory was that she did not understand insanity, and so her inability to follow the illogical thought processes of the demented man frightened her.
"He is so intelligent," she startled me by saying.
"He's crazy," I protested.
"What is crazy?"
"His reasoning faculties do not function properly."
She seemed to be reading my thoughts carefully, trying to understand better what I meant. After a minute she smiled and her teeth showed white and even against her tan. "Isn't it possible that his mind works too swiftly for you to follow, and the only way you can explain your lack of understanding is to say that he is insane?"
So that was why she feared Kohnke. To her he was a brilliant intellect. So great that she could neither understand nor influence him as she did the others of us. His aborted reasoning, his sudden shifts of interest, his small concern with a situation that aroused our distress, were all evidence of that superior intellect. I did not try to disabuse her of the belief. It fitted well with my semi-formed plan.