t, Mr. Malone, that you recheck your data. The fault may very
well lie in your own interpretations of the actual facts."

"I don't think so," Malone said.

O'Connor grimaced. "I do," he said firmly.

Malone sighed, very faintly. He shifted in the chair and began to
realize, for the first time, just how uncomfortable it really was. He
also felt a little chilly, and the chill was growing. That, he told
himself, was the effect of Dr. O'Connor. He no longer regretted
wearing his hat. As a matter of fact, he thought wistfully for a
second of a small, light overcoat.

O'Connor, he told himself, was definitely not the warm, friendly type.

"Well, then," he said, conquering the chilly feeling for a second,
"maybe there's somebody else. Somebody who knows something more about
psionics, and who might have some other ideas about--"

"Please, Mr. Malone," O'Connor said. "The United States Government
would hardly have chosen me had I not been uniquely qualified in my
field."

Malone sighed again. "I mean ... maybe there are some books on the
subject," he said quietly, hoping he sounded tactful. "Maybe there's
something I could look up."

"Mr. Malone." The temperature of the office, Malone realized, was
definitely lowering. O'Connor's built-in freezer coils were working
overtime, he told himself. "The field of psionics is so young that I
can say, without qualification, that I am acquainted with everything
written on the subject. By that, of course, I mean scientific works. I
do not doubt that the American Society for Psychical Research, for
instance, has hundreds of crackpot books which I have never read, or
even heard of. But in the strictly scientific field, I must say
that--"

He broke off, looking narrowly at Malone with what might have been
concern, but looked more like discouragement and boredom.

"Mr. Malone," he said, "are you ill?"

Malone thought about it. He wasn't quite sure, he discovered. The
chill in the office was bothering him more and more, and as it grew he
began to doubt that it was all due to the O'Connor influence. Suddenly
a distinct shudder started somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulders
and rippled its way down his body.

Another one followed it, and then a third.

"Me?" Malone said. "I'm ... I'm all right."

"You seem to have contracted a chill," O'Connor said.

A fourth shudder followed the other three.

"I ... guess so," Malone said. "I d-d ... I do s-seem to be r-r-rather
chilly."