lit his pipe, shaking his head at me. He's
aged ten years this past week. Everybody thinks so. He's lost weight,
and he looks as if he hasn't slept at all. "Custer's afraid that it
isn't a question of anatomy, Amy."

"But what is it, then, for heaven's sake?"

"He doesn't know. He says it's not very scientific, but it may just be
that what you don't use, you lose."

"Oh, but that's silly." I chewed my lip.

"Granted."

"But he thinks that there's a chance?"

"Of course there's a chance. And you know he'll do everything he can.
It's just that neither of us wants you to get your hopes up."

It wasn't much, but it was something. Lambertson looked so beat. I
didn't have the heart to ask him what Aarons wanted, even though I know
he'd like to get it off his chest. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I spent the day with Charlie Dakin in the lab, and did a little work for
a change. I've been disgustingly lazy, and poor Charlie thinks it's all
his fault. Charlie reads like twenty-point type ninety per cent of the
time, and I'm afraid he knows it. I can tell just exactly when he stops
paying attention to business and starts paying attention to _me_, and
then all of a sudden he realizes I'm reading him, and it flusters him
for the rest of the day. I wonder why? Does he really think I'm shocked?
Or surprised? Or _insulted_? Poor Charlie!

I guess I must be good enough looking. I can read it from almost every
fellow that comes near me. I wonder why? I mean, why me and not Marjorie
over in the Main Office? She's a sweet girl, but she never gets a second
look from the guys. There must be some fine differential point I'm
missing somewhere, but I don't think I'll ever understand it.

I'm not going to press Lambertson, but I _hope_ he opens up tomorrow.
He's got me scared silly by now. He has a lot of authority around here,
but other people are paying the bills, and when he's frightened about
something, it can't help but frighten me.

* * * * *

_Thursday, 18 May._ We went back to reaction testing in the lab with
Lambertson today. That study is almost finished, as much as anything I
work on is ever finished, which isn't very much. This test had two
goals: to clock my stimulus-response pattern in comparison to normals,
and to find out just exactly _when_ I pick up any given thought-signal
from the person I'm reading. It isn't a matter of developing speed. I'm
already so fast to respond that it d