"And stop telling people we're going to get married!"
She didn't answer that, so I let myself out and went to my own apartment, sizzling.
The phone was ringing as I came in, and I walked over to press the "Accept" button. The screen lit up to show me a lined and wrinkled face framed in scraggling hair streaked with gray.
"Hello, Evaleen," I said to her.
"This is dynamite," she said in a graveyard tone. "In the gym, in about ten minutes?"
I could feel my eyebrows rise. "Sure," I said, and before I could foolishly ask her what it was all about, she cut the image.
It isn't that our phones are tapped. Maragon doesn't need that. But in a building full of telepaths, any conversation is going to be peeped if you carry it on long enough. And who can keep his mind closed while he's talking? It's hard enough when you're silent.
I rode directly down to twenty and let myself into the locker room. By the time I had changed into my gym suit, Evaleen Riley's ten minutes had elapsed, and I went into the gym.
If she wanted to be careful about our conversation there was no point going directly to wherever she was working out, so I wandered.