"Okay," he said at last. "I can see that."
He turned to Boyd. "Here's a job for you, Tom," he said. "Get one of
the judges on the phone. You'll know which one will do us the most
good, fastest."

"Mmm," Boyd said. "Say Judge Dunning," he said. "Good man. Fast
worker."

"I don't care who," Malone said. "Just get going, and get us a release
for Miss Thompson." He turned back to the doctor. "By the way," he
said. "Has she got any other name? Besides Elizabeth Tudor, I mean,"
he added hurriedly.

"Her full name," Dr. Harman said, "is Rose Walker Thompson. She is not
Queen Elizabeth I, II or XXVIII, and she is not immortal."

"But she is," Malone pointed out, "a telepath. And that's why I want
her."

"She may," Dr. Harman said, "be a telepath." It was obvious that he
had partly managed to forget the disturbing incidents that had
happened a few minutes before. "I don't even want to discuss that part
of it."

"Okay, never mind it," Malone said agreeably. "Tom, get us a court
order for Rose Walker Thompson. Effective yesterday--day before, if
possible."

Boyd nodded, but before he could get to the phone Dr. Harman spoke
again.

"Now, wait a moment, gentlemen," he said. "Court order or no court
order, Miss Thompson is definitely not a well woman, and I can't see
my way clear to--"

"I'm not well myself," Malone said. "I need sleep and I probably have
a cold. But I've got to work for the national security, and--"

"This is important," Boyd put in.

"I don't dispute that," Dr. Harman said. "Nevertheless, I--"

The door that led into the other room burst suddenly open. The three
men turned to stare at Miss Wilson, who stood in the doorway for a
long second and then stepped into the office, closing the door quietly
behind her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said.

"Not at all," Malone said. "It's a pleasure to have you. Come again
soon." He smiled at her.

She didn't smile back. "Doctor," she said, "you'd really better talk
to Miss Thompson. I'm not at all sure what I can do. It's something
new."

"New?" he said. The worry lines on his face were increasing, but he
spoke softly.

"The poor dear thinks she's going to get out of the hospital now,"
Miss Wilson said. "For some reason, she's convinced that the FBI is
going to get her released, and--"

As she saw the expression on three faces, she stopped.

"What's wrong?" she said.

"Miss Wilson," Malone said, "we--may I call you by your first name?"

"Of