"He felt it would be better if I never knew about it," I admitted. "What do you think I should do, Anita?"
Her heart-shaped face grew more solemn. "I think it would be bad to try to cover it up," she decided. "And I'm glad you didn't let Fred do that to you. Some newscast would be sure to get hold of the story and there'd be snide accusations. All this talk recently about the heredity of psi powers is bad, too. That's what she's trying to cash in on. And if the public thought that the man in charge of catching and pulling the fangs of all the snakes was a hereditary telepath, they'd be after your scalp in no time."
"So?"
"Scotch it. See her, face her down, prove her charge is ridiculous, and ship her west."
I smiled a little dimly. "Just one complication."
"Yes, Gyp?"
"This Maude Tinker, says Fred, is a gypsy."
Anita's face did the most abrupt change. I had never seen her furiously angry. She's a typical high echelon Washington secretary, cool, extremely well-mannered, cheerful without being bumptious. But this time she was downright mad.
"I told you," Anita said.
"What?"