"Ah. Good," Dr. O'Connor said equably. "In any case, to continue: this machine interprets those specific feelings as indications that the mind is being ... ah ... 'eavesdropped' upon."
You could almost see the quotation marks around what Dr. O'Connor considered slang dropping into place, Malone thought.
"I see," Burris said with a disappointed air. "But what do you mean, it won't detect a telepath? Have you ever actually worked with a telepath?"
"Certainly we have," Dr. O'Connor said. "If we hadn't, how would we be able to tell that the machine was, in fact, indicating the presence of telepathy? The theoretical state of the art is not, at present, sufficiently developed to enable us to—"
"I see," Burris said hurriedly. "Only wait a minute."
"Yes?"
"You mean you've actually got a real mind reader? You've found one? One that works?"
Dr. O'Connor shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I should have said, Mr. Burris, that we did once have one," he admitted. "He was, unfortunately, an imbecile, with a mental age between five and six, as nearly as we were able to judge."
"An imbecile?" Burris said. "But how were you able to—"