"Hell, no," said Saxon. "I want to preserve some of my illusions." He leaned towards her. "I'll strike a bargain with you, though. If you don't mention that I'm a telepath, I'll not report our—er—experience last night."
"You mean you haven't said anything?"
"No," said Saxon. "Why should I? I didn't have proof. Who'd want to tackle General Atomic without cast-iron evidence? On second thought, who'd want to tackle General Atomic at all? No one would believe me, anyway. Just like they won't believe you if you tell them I'm a telepath."
Saxon could see the girl reach a decision. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," he broke in before she could voice her thought. "You've lots of other courses. You could snub me or spread tales behind my back."
"I didn't say it!" she retorted hotly. "I thought it. My Lord, I can't even call my thoughts my own!"
"Then it's a bargain."
"I didn't say so."
"No. But you've decided to...."
She stamped her feet. "That's what I mean! That's what I mean!"
"Calm down," he said. "Half the staff is staring at you."