"Charles L. Harness - The Rose" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

first. You said...that I'm trying to make him fall in love with me." She pondered this for a long wondering
moment, as though the idea were utterly new. "And I guess...it's true."

The man looked blank, then smiled with sudden appreciation. "You are clever. Certainly, you're the first
to try that line. Though I don't know what you expect to gain with your false candor."

"False? Didn't you mean it yourself? No, I see you didn't. But Mrs. Jacques does. And she hates me for
it. But I'm just part of the bigger hate she keeps for him. Even her Sciomnia equation is just part of that
hate. She isn't working on a biophysical weapon just because she's a patriot, but more to spite him, to
show him that her science is superior toтАФ"

Martha Jacques' hand lashed viciously across the little table and struck Anna in the mouth.

The man merely murmured: "Please control yourself a bit longer, Mrs. Jacques. Interruptions from
outside would be most inconvenient at this point." His humorless eyes returned to Anna. "One evening a
week ago, when Mr. Jacques was under your care at the clinic, you left stylus and paper with him."

Anna nodded. "I wanted him to attempt automatic writing."

"What is 'automatic writing'?"

"Simply writing done while the conscious mind is absorbed in a completely extraneous activity, such as
music. Mr. Jacques was to focus his attention on certain music composed by me while holding stylus and
paper in his lap. If his recent inability to read and write was caused by some psychic block, it was quite
possible that his subconscious mind might bypass the block, and he would writeтАФjust as one 'doodles'
unconsciously when talking over the visor."

He thrust a sheet of paper at her. "Can you identify this?"

What was he driving at? She examined the sheet hesitantly. "It's just a blank sheet from my private
monogrammed stationery. Where did you get it?"

"From the pad you left with Mr. Jacques."

"So?"

"We also found another sheet from the same pad under Mr. Jacques' bed. It had some interesting writing
on it."

"But Mr. Jacques personally reported nil results."

"He was probably right."

"But you said he wrote something?" she insisted; momentarily her personal danger faded before her
professional interest.

"I didn't say he wrote anything."

"Wasn't it written with that same stylus?"