"I'll see, Johann." Salmon buzzed for the nurse, then went out. He was gone five minutes, returned with Drs. Hedrick, Garcia, and Rosenthal, and a second nurse, who was carrying a large hand mirror.

Hedrick said, "How do you feel, Miss Smith?"

She smiled wryly. "So it's ‘Miss' Smith now, is it? Much better, thank you; my mind is at ease. You could have told me weeks ago; I am not as unstable as you think."

"That is possible, Miss Smith, but I am bound to do what I think is best for my patient."

"No criticism, none. But now that the cat is out of the bag, please ask the nurse to show me what I look like. I'm curious."

"Certainly, Miss Smith."

Dr. Garcia waved the nurse at the console aside and sat down; Hedrick stationed himself on one side of the bed, Rosenthal on the others Only then did Hedrick take the mirror from the nurse, hold it to let his patient see herself in it.

Johann Smith looked at her new face first with intense interest, then with unbelief—then her features broke in horror. "Oh, my God! Dear God, what have they done to us? Jake! You knew!"

The lawyer's face was working in the convulsions of a strong man trying not to weep. "Yes, I knew, Johann. That's why I couldn't find her for you—because she was here all along. Right here—and I had... to talk to her!"

He gave up and sobbed.

"Jake, how could you let them do it? Eunice, oh Eunice my darling, forgive me—I didn't know!" Her sobs echoed his, an octave higher.

Hedrick snapped, "Dr. Garcia!"

"Started, Doctor!"

"Dr. Rosenthal, take care of Mr. Salomon. Nurse, help him, he's about to fall! Damn it, where's that aspirator?"

Five minutes later the room was quiet. The patient had been forced into sedated sleep. Dr. Hedrick satisfied himself that Miss Smith was safe and turned the bedside watch over to Dr. Garcia. Hedrick then left the sickroom.

He found Mr. Salomon stretched out on a couch at the remote watch station; Dr. Rosenthal was seated by the couch, a stethoscope around his neck. Hedrick cocked an eyebrow at the, psychiatrist, who mouthed soundlessly, "Okay," then added aloud, "Perhaps you will check me."

"Very well, Doctor." Hedrick sat down where Rosenthal had been, hitched the chair closer, took Salomon's wrist and felt his pulse. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," Salomon said gruffly. "Sorry I made a fool of myself. How is she?"

"Sleeping. You were fond of her."

"We both were fond of her. Doctor, she was an angel."

"Go ahead and cry. Tears are lubricant for the soul. Males would be better off if they cried as easily as women do. Eh, Rosenthal?"

"Correct, Doctor. Cultures in which men cry easily have little need of my specialty." He smiled. "Mr. Salomon, you're in good hands so I'll run along—got to shrink a few heads for my collection. Unless you need me, Doctor?"

"Run along Rosy. You might be here in the morning when we wake the patient. Say ten o'clock."

"Good-bye, Dr. Rosenthal. Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"No huhu, Counselor. Don't let that veterinarian sell you any flea powder." He left.

"Dr. Salomon," said Hedrick, "this big castle is loaded with beds. What do you say to sacking out in one, then about twenty-one or two o'clock I can give you a pill guaranteed to slug you for eight hours of dreamless sleep?"

"I'm okay, really I am."

"If you say so. I can't force treatment on you. But as another human being who has come to know you fairly well—and admire you—I must admit that I am more worried about you than I am about my patient. You referred to her as an ‘angel'—by which you meant the donor, not Miss Smith."

"Eh? Yes,' of course. Eunice Branca." Salomon's features contorted momentarily.

"I never knew her and I've had little experience with angels; doctors don't see people at their best. But her body would do credit to an angel; I have never seen a healthier one. Twenty-eight years old by the records, physiologically perhaps five years younger. She—Miss Smith I now mean, Miss Johann ‘Smith—can take a severe shock and bounce out of it; she has that superb young body to sustain her. But you have had much the same shock and—forgive me—are no longer young. If you won't sleep here—best—"

"I don't want to sleep here!"

"Very well. Second best would be for you to permit me to check your heart and lungs and blood pressure. If I don't like what I find, then I want you to rest while I send for your physician."

"He doesn't make house calls."

Hedrick grunted. "Then he's not a physician; physicians go where they are needed. A most unprofessional remark as we are expected to pretend that any M.D. with a license is a dedicated saint with the wisdom of Jove—even when we know he is a bungler whose dedication is to the Internal Revenue Service. Don't quote me; they might lift my union card. Now about that checkup? Do you want it?"

"Uh, yes. Please. And I'll take that pill if you'll let me take it home. Don't ordinarily use such—but tonight is a special case."

"Good. If you'll slip off your shirt—"

While he worked the physician said quietly, "Mr. Salomon, I don't have Dr. Rosenthal's training. But if it will do you any good to talk, I can listen. This has been on your mind, I know. I think your worst hurdle is past—letting Johann Smith know that he is now ‘Miss' Smith, plus the still worse shock of seeing him—her——discover that she now inhabits his former secretary's body. So you are past that crisis. If there is more it would help to get off your mind, feel free to talk. In my profession as in yours, such talk is privileged."

"I don't mind talking about Eunice. But I don't know what to say."

"Well, you might tell me how such a lovely girl got killed. Never knew the donor's name until you told me. There was a privacy restriction. So we don't ask—as long as the donation is properly certified."

"Yes, there was such restriction. We'll never know why but I suspect that the child—woman, I mean, and a very competent one—but I thought of her as a child, being so much older than she was. I think Eunice had a romantic notion that she could give her body to her boss if she no longer needed it and not let him find out. Ridiculous, but it fitted her sweet nature. I had to tell you, once it looked as if old Johann might live through it. Because I knew he would blow his wig. And he did."

"A very good thing you told me, Counselor. I think—and Dr. Rosenthal thinks—that we would never have pulled this patient through if we hadn't taken extraordinary precautions to keep her from knowing her sex. In view of the patient's relation to the donor. Close, that is."

"Close. Close for both of us. Doctor, I am not exaggerating—if I had been as little as twice Eunice's age—and she not married—I would have done my damnedest to marry her. And the same, I feel certain, goes for old Johann. So I knew what a shock it would be to him—worse than simply learning that she had been killed."

"Car accident?"

"Nothing so innocent. Killed by a mugger. Psycho­path probably but the point is immaterial as Johann's mobile guards caught him almost in the act and killed him. That's how she was saved—her body was saved, I mean—because they rushed her to a hospital hoping to save her." Jake Salomon sighed. "It does help to talk."

"Good. How did Johann Smith's guards happen to be so Johnny-on-the-spot, yet not quite?"

"Oh. The poor darling tried to save ten minutes. She was a blood donor—AB-Negative, and—"

"Oh! Now I know why ‘Miss' Smith has seemed vaguely familiar. I saw her once, I'm now certain, giving blood to a patient I had been called in to support. A lovely girl, with a warm disposition, friendly, who dressed in, um, exotic styles."