The terrible nervousness that had assaulted me the moment he first mentioned a book subsided so quickly that I was giddy. Of course, I thought; he’d been in his apartment downstairs, not at the sanatorium. It would have been odd if he hadn’t heard the typewriter since you could hear a sneeze in this building two floors away. “Beginning a thesis,” I said, probably too quickly. “I suppose it could run into a book.”

“Excellent. Excellent. Yes, yes, yes. Our boy is catching up,” Ram-Ram said, rubbing his pudgy hands together. I caught the third person reference to myself uneasily, then remembered that this was his habit of speech, not only with me but with others. It was apparent that I’d been overreacting, and with new relief I poured myself another drink, though Ram-Ram was still sipping his.

“Anyhow, I’m delighted that you’ve been given a clean bill of health,” I said. “Do you have to go back for any kind of follow-up?”

“I have to go back to keep track of our Queen Alice,” Ram-Ram said, shifting in the chair. This time the wicker creaked more warningly than ever, and Ram-Ram grinned.

“Take the blue chair instead,” I said quickly. “I’ve got to throw the wicker one away anyhow. Go ahead, the blue one is much more comfortable. I’ll even stick the wicker out in the hall while I’m thinking about it.” And as Ram-Ram moved, taking his drink, pack of cigarettes, and ashtray with him, I stuck the old chair just outside the door, planning to cart it down to the trash heap later.

Ram-Ram crossed his legs and made himself generally comfortable, this time on the couch. “Yes, I want to keep an eye on Queen Alice,” he said. Then, looking at me speculatively, “I see that you don’t want to tell me what you’ve been up to, though. Well, that’s easily understandable, but right now I’m giving you a demonstration of sorts that you won’t understand until I’m gone.”

“Now, what does that mean?” I asked.

“You’re a good psychologist. You’ll figure it out,” Ram-Ram answered. “I’m delighted with our little chat, though. Yes, yes, yes, our boy is doing fine.” He stood up, rubbing his hands together in a quick, nervous, yet almost smug gesture, and grinned like a Cheshire cat. And disappeared.