"But Miss Thompson, I—"
"You didn't honestly think I was a telepath," the little old lady said. "Heavens, we know that. And you're going to tell them how I used to say I could read minds ... oh, years and years ago. And because of that you thought it might be worth while to tell the FBI about me—which wasn't very kind of you, doctor, before you knew anything about why they wanted somebody like me."
"Now, now, Miss Thompson," Miss Wilson said, walking across the room to put an arm around the little old lady's shoulder. Malone wished for one brief second that he were the old little old lady. Maybe if he were a patient in the hospital he would get the same treatment.
He wondered if he could possibly work such a deal.
Then he wondered if it would be worth while, being nuts. But of course it would. He was nuts anyhow, wasn't he?
Sure, he told himself. They were all nuts.
"Nobody's going to hurt you," Miss Wilson said. She was talking to the old lady. "You'll be perfectly all right and you don't have to worry about a thing."
"Oh, yes, dear, I know that," the little old lady said. "You only want to help me, dear. You're so kind. And these FBI men really don't mean any harm. But Dr. Harman didn't know that. He just thinks I'm crazy and that's all."
"Please, Miss Thompson—" Dr. Harman began.