"But you—" Dr. Harman began.
"I read minds," the little old lady said. "That's right, Doctor.
That's what makes me a telepath."
Malone's brain was whirling rapidly, like a distant galaxy. Telepath was a nice word, he thought. How do you telepath from a road?
Simple.
The road is paved.
Malone thought that was pretty funny, but he didn't laugh. He thought he would never laugh again. He wanted to cry, a little, but he didn't think he'd be able to manage that either.
He twisted his hat, but it didn't make him feel any better. Gradually, he became aware that the little old lady was talking to Dr. Harman again.
"But," she said, "since it will make you feel so much better, Doctor, we give you our Royal permission to retire, and to speak to Mr. Malone alone."
"Malone alone," Dr. Harman muttered. "Hmm. My. Well." He turned and seemed to be surprised that Malone was actually standing near him. "Yes," he said. "Well. Mr. Alone—Mr. Malone—please, whoever you are, just come into my office, please?"
Malone looked at the little old lady. One of her eyes closed and opened. It was an unmistakable wink.