ttle
Jimmy--cousin Mary's boy, I mean--said I was dead and claimed the
Throne, I decided to change my name and all. And that's what I did. But
I am Elizabeth Regina." She smiled, and her eyes twinkled merrily.
Malone stared at her for a long minute.

_Burris_, he thought, _is going to love this_.

"Oh, I'm so glad," the little old lady said. "Do you really think he
will? Because I'm sure I'll like your Mr. Burris, too. All of you FBI
men are so charming. Just like poor, poor Essex."

Well, Malone told himself, that was that. He'd found himself a telepath.

And she wasn't an imbecile.

Oh, no. That would have been simple.

Instead, she was battier than a cathedral spire.

* * * * *

The long silence was broken by the voice of Miss Wilson.

"Mr. Malone," she said, "you've been thinking." She stopped. "I mean,
you've been so quiet."

"I like being quiet," Malone said patiently. "Besides--" He stopped and
turned to the little old lady. _Can you really read my mind?_ he thought
deliberately. After a second he added: _... your majesty?_

"How sweet of you, Mr. Malone," she said. "Nobody's called me that for
centuries. But of course I can. Although it's not reading, really. After
all, that would be like asking if I can read your voice. Of course I
can, Mr. Malone."

"That does it," Malone said. "I'm not a hard man to convince. And when I
see the truth, I'm the first one to admit it, even if it makes me look
like a nut." He turned back to the little old lady. "Begging your
pardon," he said.

"Oh, my," the little old lady said. "I really don't mind at all. Sticks
and stones, you know, can break my bones. But being called nuts, Mr.
Malone, can never hurt me. After all, it's been so many years--so many
hundreds of years--"

"Sure," Malone said easily.

Boyd broke in. "Listen, Malone," he said, "do you mind telling me what
is going on?"

"It's very simple," Malone said. "Miss Thompson here ... pardon me; I
mean Queen Elizabeth I ... really is a telepath. That's all. I think I
want to lie down somewhere until it goes away."

"Until what goes away?" Miss Wilson said.

Malone stared at her almost without seeing her, if not quite.
"Everything," he said. He closed his eyes.

"My goodness," the little old lady said after a second. "Everything's so
confused. Poor Mr. Malone is terribly shaken up by everything." She
stood up, still holding her knitting, and went across the room. Befor