"It might—but why weren't you hypnotized?"
"I don't know. Why have I got this amnesia?"
"It isn't amnesia anymore," said the psychologist ruefully. "It is now a definite psychic block against your former line of work, coupled with self-justified hallucination."
"I hate to puncture that bubble," said Pollard. "But I must. Take that job and find out for yourself!"
"I will," said James Carroll flatly. "You watch!"
"Good!"
"And I will not be stopping for sandwiches, either!" snapped Carroll. "Or, I might add, anything else!"
James Carroll tucked the box underneath his arm and set out along the street. He walked warily, keeping a sharp lookout for the black sedan. A few hundred feet ahead of him he saw Sally turn into the drug store for her habitual snack but he suppressed very quickly the impulse to follow her and talk to her about the job.
He stood on the corner of the square, waiting for traffic. It was a reasonably long-time light for the crosstown road, and Carroll reached for a cigarette. His pack was empty, so he crumpled it and tossed it in the nearby waste-chute and looked about him questingly.