"Oh," Malone said. "But Mike—"
"I can't pick him up at all, this far away," the Queen said. "There is just a faint touch of him, though, through the girl. But all I know about him is what she thinks." She smiled gently. "He's a nice boy, basically," she said.
"Sure he is," Malone said. "He's got a nice blackjack, too—basically." He grimaced. "Were you reading my mind all last night?" he said.
"Well," the Queen said, "no. Toward morning you were getting so fuzzy I just didn't bother."
"I can understand that," Malone said. "I nearly didn't bother myself."
The Queen nodded. "But toward afternoon," she said, "I didn't have anything to do, so I just listened in. You do have such a nice mind, Sir Kenneth—so refreshing and different. Especially when you're in love."
Malone blushed quietly.
"Oh, I know," the Queen said. "You'd much rather think of yourself as a sort of apprentice lecher, a kind of cynical Don Juan, but—"
"I know," Malone said. "Don't tell me about it. All right?"
"Of course, Sir Kenneth," the Queen said, "if you wish it."