hesitated, shook her head. "No," she said. "Go on. I'm
sorry I interrupted."

"That's all right." Dr. Al gave her a warm smile. It had been, he
continued, a successful exercise, a very promising first attempt, in
spite of the lack of an immediate materialization, which, of course,
had been only a remote possibility to start with. He had no fault to
find with the quality of the group's effort. He had sensed it ... as
they, too, presently would be able to sense it ... as a smooth flow of
directed energy. With a little more practice ... one of these days ...

Cavender stifled one yawn, concealed another which didn't allow itself
to be stifled behind a casually raised hand. He watched Ormond move
over to the prop table, put the wooden plate down beside the red
suitcase without interrupting his encouraging summary of the exercise,
hesitate, then pick up something else, something which looked like a
flexible copper trident, and start back to the center of the room with
it.

Mrs. Folsom's voice said shrilly, "_Dr. Al--!_"

"Yes, Eleanor? What is it?"

"Just now," Mrs. Folsom said, her voice still holding the shrill note,
"just a moment ago, on the plate over there, I'm certain ... I'm
almost certain I saw the ham sandwich!"

She added breathlessly, "And that's what I was going to say before,
Dr. Al! Right after you told us to stop visualizing I thought I saw
the sandwich on the plate! But it was only for a moment and I wasn't
sure. But now I'm sure, almost sure, that I saw it again on the plate
on the table!"

The old woman was pointing a trembling finger towards the table. Her
cheeks showed spots of hectic red. In the rows behind her, the
students looked at one another, shook their heads in resignation, some
obviously suppressing amusement. Others looked annoyed. They were all
familiar with Eleanor Folsom's tendency to produce such little
sensations during the meetings. If the evening didn't promise to bring
enough excitement, Eleanor always could be counted on to take a hand
in events.

Cavender felt less certain about it. This time, Mrs. Folsom sounded
genuinely excited. And if she actually believed she'd seen something
materialize, she might be fairly close to getting one of those little
heart attacks she kept everyone informed about.

* * * * *

Dr. Al could have had the same thought. He glanced back at the prop
table, asked gravely, "You don't see it there now, do you, Eleanor?