Jake escorted Joan Eunice to her boudoir. Winnie was waiting there-to Joan's annoyance as she thought it possible that Jake's stern character might slip if the upper house was quiet. But she did not show it. "Hi, Winnie!"

"Miss Joan! Are you all right? I've been so worried!"

"Of course I'm all right; Mr. Salomon was taking care of me. Why were you worried, dear?"

"Why, the dreadful things they've been saying about you in the news and there was a riot at the Hall of Justice; I saw it. And—"

"Winnie, Winnie! The idiot box is for idiots; why do you look at it? I was never in danger."

"But she has had a trying day, so you take good care of her, Winnie."

"Oh, I will, sir!"

"And I am tired, too, so I'll say good-night and go to bed. After I find a sandwich, perhaps."

"Hubert put a tray in your suite, sir."

"Hubert gets another merit badge. Though to tell the truth, Winnie, I've had a worrisome day myself, and it's left me with little appetite and jangled nerves. I may dine on a sleeping pill."

"Jake dear—"

"Yes, Eunice?"

"Don't take a pill. And do eat."

"But—"

"I know, I'm a bundle of nerves myself. But I know what to do about it—and Winnie and I can soothe your nerves and restore your appetite and make you sleep like a baby."

He cocked one eyebrow, looked at Eunice, then at Winnie. "I think either of you could. But both?"

"Jake, you're a dirty-minded old man; you'll have Winnie blushing. But we can—can't we, Winnie? The Money Hum."

"Oh. Yes, we can, Mr. Salomon."

"Harrumph! Does it involve blood? Or broken bones?"

"Oh, no, sir! It's restful. Relaxing."

"I'll try anything once."

Joan said, "But you have to strip for it to—"

"I thought there was a catch."

"Oh, Jake. We'll let you sissy; you can wear shorts. We strip for it; the spiritual effect is better. It's the way we warm up for our exercises. Go undress; then put on shorts and a robe. We'll join you in the Green Suite. Right after it you're going to have a bite to eat and a tepid tub and straight to bed and right to sleep."

"Maybe I'd better bathe first. A day in court leaves me smelling like a skunk."

"You smell all right. Anyhow, Winnie and I have such control by now that we can decide not to be able to smell—or to hear a distracting noise, or anything—if we choose to."

"That's true, Mr. Salomon."

"Okay. Winnie, if she beats me, you protect me. Adios, dears."

"Five minutes, Jake."

As soon as they were alone Winifred said, "You're going to make me strip down bare? Again?"

"I didn't ‘make' you strip the first time. And dear Doctor certainly did notice that you are a girl. Looked to me as if the kiss he gave you was better than the one he gave me. Stop blushing. Winnie, you can sissy, too, if you want to—but I do need you -present. Or Jake will think I'm trying to make him."

"Oh, Mi. Salomon would never think that about you."

"He's male. He's as male as dear Doctor. I need chaperonage, as all I'm after is to help him sleep without pills. The poor dear has had a dreadful day. Winnie, he was wonderful in court; I'll tell you about it. Later. Let's get these duds off and grab negligees. Modest ones." Joan Eunice stopped suddenly. "Perhaps I've goofed. Winsome? Do you have a date?"

Miss Gersten blushed again. "Uh... not until later."

"Paul working late? Sorry—erase and correct. None of my business."

The little redhead continued to blush but she answered steadily, "My business is always your business, Miss Joan. Uh, I'm supposed to take care of you—and I do try! But you feel like a big sister to me."

"Thank you, sweet Winsome. But big sisters should not snoop."

"I've been meaning to tell you. Paul and I have split."

"Oh, I'm sorry"

"I'm not. I don't think Paul ever meant to get a dissolution; he was stringing me. But—well, Bob isn't married. Not yet."

"‘Not yet.' Planning on getting married, dear?"

"Well... I don't think getting married is something one plans. It just happens. Like thunderstorms."

"You could be right. Sweet, whether it's getting married, or fun and happiness, I hope it's perfect for you. And ‘Bob' is such a common name that I can't be tempted to guess. If I don't see him."

"You probably won't. He comes up the service lift and into my rooms from the back corridor—nobody sees him but the guard on duty. And they don't gossip."

"If any guard ever gossips about anything in this house, and I find it out, he'll be on Welfare so fast he'll be dizzy. Winnie, the rest of the staff can be human about it. But a guard is in a specially trusted position and must keep his mouth shut. Winnie, if you ever want to see Bob—or anyone—somewhere else, I'll have my mobile guards deliver you and pick you up, and even I won't know where."

"Uh....hank you. But this is the safest place for us—so few places are safe today. The most that can happen here is that Bob might be embarrassed. I wouldn't be embarrassed at all, I'm proud of him!"

"That's the way to feel, dear. As an ex-man I know that's the attitude a man values most in a woman. ‘Proud of him.' But let's hurry; we're keeping Jake waiting. If you're going to wear pants, better find some with stretch in them. And thank you for lending me this outfit—turned out that, without the apron and cap, it was still most effective. I had the robe off a while. Tell you later."

In moments the girls were hurrying down the corridor to the Green Suite, each just in a negligee and barefooted. At the last instant Winifred had decided that, if her mistress was going to practice meditation in the correct uniform, she would also.

They found the counselor in a bathrobe, looking sheepish. Joan said, "I hope we haven't kept you waiting. Is your tub ready? If not, I'm willing to draw it before we start. Then into it and out, don't risk falling asleep. Then—"

"I cheated. I took a quick tub—tepid, as you specified—and ate a little, too."

"Good. Then we'll pop you straight into bed after this and kiss you good-night and you'll be asleep before we're -out the door. Jake, this is the simplest of yoga, not exercise, just meditation. Controlled breathing, but the easiest sort. Inhale through one repetition of the prayer, hold it through one more. Exhale through one, hold through one, and repeat. All of us together, in a triangle. Can you sit in Lotus? Probably not unless you've practiced."

"Eunice—"

"Yes, Jake?"

"My father was a tailor. I was sitting in tailor's seat before I was eight. Will that do?"

"Certainly if you are comfortable. If not, any position that lets you relax. For you have to forget your body."

"Squatted in a tailor's position I can fall asleep. But what's this prayer?"

Joan Eunice slipped off her negligee, melted down onto the rug into meditation pose, soles upward on her thighs, palms upward in her lap. "It goes like this. Om Mani Padme Hum." (Om Math Padme Hum. I should have taught Jake this long ago.)

"I know the phrase. ‘The Jewel in the Lotus.' But what does it mean to you, Joan Eunice?"

Winifred had followed Joan's example as quickly as she set it, was bare and in Lotus—and not blushing. She answered, "It means everything and nothing, Mr. Salomon. It is all the good things you know of—bravery and beauty and gentleness and not wanting what you can't have and being happy with what you do have and trees swaying in the wind and fat little babies gurgling when you tickle their feet and anything that makes life good. Love. It always means love. But you don't think about it, you don't think at all, you don't even try not to think. You chant the prayer and just be—until you find yourself floating, all warm and good and relaxed."