"Then?"

"On his way out he sort of grabbed me and kissed me."

Hanson nodded appreciatively. "You liked it?" he chuckled.

Ava sat down, landing in the chair with a thud. "When a man puts a hand on me and my knees turn to jelly," she said quietly, "I oscillate madly between hating his guts and wanting him to try it again. That sort of thing would play hell with a girl's morals."

"Shucks," chuckled Hanson. "I've just violated all of the rules of medicine. I've just treated a man against his will—and turned an introvert inside out."

"You sure did," nodded Ava.

"He'll be back again in a year—and normal, then."

"But how do you turn an introvert inside out?"

"Reverse his sense of values."

"But—"

"His memory pattern? That's difficult. To make him more or less stable for that year, I sort of tampered with his memory on a temporary basis, also. He thinks he is all sorts of things that he has never been—but has probably wanted to be from time to time."

"Is that why he kissed me?"

"Partly. But you're the woman he should have when normal, not as he is now. That's—"

"So you gave him a false memory, complete with a lot of details to explain just about every possible question, hey?"

"Yep."

"And just how was this background furnished?" she demanded.

"Remember it is only temporary and need not be complete. Just sufficient to justify its being."

"Don't quibble."

Hanson laughed. "Well, when a man of seventy starts to furnish a bit of background for a youth of thirty-odd, what better than a few true experiences from the old man's past."

 Prev. P 8/45 next