"Hush that, Michael. You must not try to make believe you can lie. I know you tell me only the truth."
"All right," Malloy said, exhaling deeply. "Believe that I speak only the truth if you like. But remember, I just told you that I'm a liar and that must be true."
Heirson blinked in watery confusion. He was obviously senile; only the old man's Rider kept him from coming apart at his mental seams.
The angle-faced man spoke into Heirson's ear. The old doctor continued to blink for a moment, then faced Malloy, the lines of his face drawn into an asterisk.
"What? You mean to tell me that you don't have an inner voice that urges you to tell the truth at all times?"
"No," Malloy explained, "I do not hear voices."
"You don't?"
"Never."
"And there is no inner sense that tells you when somebody is plotting against you?"
"Absolutely not."