"Oh, Popsy, are you all right?" the voice inside his head was asking.
"It's all over, now; you won't have anything to worry about, any more.
But, oh, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do it!"
"My God, Dearest!" He almost spoke aloud. "Did you make her do that?"
"Popsy!" The voice in his mind was grief-stricken. "You.... You're
afraid of me! Never be afraid of Dearest, Popsy! And don't hate me for
this. It was the only thing I could do. If he'd given you that
injection, he could have made you tell him all about us, and then he'd
have been sure you were crazy, and they'd have taken you away. And they
treat people dreadfully at that place of his. You'd have been driven
really crazy before long, and then your mind would have been closed to
me, so that I wouldn't have been able to get through to you, any more.
What I did was the only thing I could do."
"I don't hate you, Dearest," he replied, mentally. "And I don't blame
you. It was a little disconcerting, though, to discover the extent of
your capabilities.... How did you manage it?"
"You remember how I made the Sergeant see an angel, the time you were
down in the snow?" Colonel Hampton nodded.
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