"Teach me," Malone said.
There was a silence.
"That's silly," Dorothea said. "How can I teach you something I can't do myself? Besides, how do you know you have the Talent?"
"As far as the second question goes, I don't know. But I can try, can't I? And as far as the first question goes, that might not be so simple. But I think it can be done—if you remember what Mike tried to teach you."
"Oh, I can remember all of that," she said, "but it's just that it didn't do me any good. I couldn't use it."
"A man who's paralyzed from the waist," Malone said hopefully, "can't play football. But if he knows how the game's played, he can teach others—anyhow, he can teach the fundamentals. Want to try?"
Dorothea smiled. "All right, Ken," she said. "It's a great idea, at that: the blind teaching the possibly-blind to read. Give me the notebook, and I'll explain the first principles. Later, you'll have to get a notebook of your own, because these symbols are very personalized."
Malone grinned and pulled a black book from his pocket. "I thought they might be," he said. "I've already got one. Let's go."
