Miriam’s lips moved. Tom turned up the intercom, hearing only the last words, “. . . need help.”

“What was that?” Charlie Humphries said. Tom shook his head. Had Miriam been reassuring Sarah?

Tom resolved not to allow the two of them to be alone for even ten seconds. There was something hypnotic about Miriam Blaylock and it was his Sarah who was the victim. Already Miriam had inducted enough bizarre behavior in her to last the rest of her life. There was no way to tell what more might happen.

He saw that Sarah was still fumbling with the damn Velcro straps. He followed her into the X-ray room.

Miriam had done nothing more than stroke Sarah’s arm. But it was nevertheless the warmest, most reassuring thing Sarah had ever felt in her life. She was so close that she could smell the pungent sweetness of Miriam’s breath. “I transfused you for both of our sakes,” Miriam said very softly, her lips barely moving. “But you’re going to need help.” Then she smiled and Sarah wanted to laugh with delight at the radiance of it. Her whole being seemed to rise to higher and higher levels as Miriam continued to look into her eyes. It was as if she could feel Miriam’s feelings inside of herself, and those feelings were pure and loving and good. She became acutely conscious of her body and almost laughed aloud when she noticed how she was standing. She folded her arms and tossed her head, breaking the gaze. Miriam rose from the X-ray table and at the same moment Tom appeared.

Sarah felt like an angel who had just fallen from some high grace. She could have choked Tom!

“Your Doctor Rifkind broke a promise,” Miriam said to Tom. It was a timely interruption. Tom’s interest was deflected from Sarah. She was grateful for Miriam’s perceptiveness.

“Broke what promise?”

“He said he was going to ‘fry’ me, I think. It wasn’t exactly a minimal dosage.”

“I don’t recall—”

“I read his lips, Doctor Haver.” She smiled again, nastily. And strode into the control room. Tom followed her and Sarah followed him. There was something extraordinary about the way Miriam dominated situations. Sarah envied her that skill.

When they reached the control room Marty Rifkind was looking quite chastened. Sam Rush was speaking, his voice as smooth as a mirror. “There won’t be any dangerous tests, Mrs. Blaylock. You’re not an experimental animal. Nobody at this institution would want to cause you the least harm. I’m sure I speak for the whole staff when I say that.”

Sarah thought again of the room that awaited Miriam in the Psychiatric Clinic. She thought of the commitment papers in process right now. She found that she could not think of Miriam as a prisoner. And there was no other way to think of her, or wouldn’t be when the commitment was approved.