"What happened?" she asked.
"I don't exactly know," he said. "But I do know you suddenly dashed over and clouted me in the face. Then everything went black for what I judge was quite a period of time. I must have fallen off the couch, finally, and broken the wires, which stopped the machine. Anyway, I came to to find you lying beside me on the floor. Whatever was the idea of bashing me?"
A flood of red suddenly rose to her cheeks. "Now I remember," she said. "It was what you were thinking! It was on the screen!"
It was his turn to redden. "What was on the screen?"
"You know very well." She got to her feet, went over to the television screen and looked into it. It was blank.
He followed her over, removing the electrode from his forehead. He tossed it on the bench and looked at the clock. "Twenty minutes," he said.
"Twenty minutes what?" she asked.
"We were both out twenty minutes, and all the time the machine was running. So, whatever was recorded, the only evidence we'll have is the camera. Might as well run it back and see what you missed."
She stiffened. "Lord knows what's on it. If what you started out with is any criterion."
He grinned at her. "It's my thoughts, not yours, which are going to be exposed to the public, in this case you," he said. "And while I develop the film, I suggest you powder up a bit. You look a bit wan and tired...."