«That’s not the point,» said Chalmers. «These poses of yours and these outbreaks of temper point to an inner conflict, a maladjustment with your environment.»

Shea grinned. «Call it a little suppressed romanticism. I figured it out myself long ago. Look. Walt here spends his time trying to become midwestern tennis champ. What good’ll it do him? And Gert spends hours at the beauty parlour trying to look like a fallen Russian countess, which she’s not built for. Another fixation on the distant romantic. I like to dress up. So what?»

«That’s all right,» Chalmers admitted, «if you don’t start taking your imaginings seriously.»

Bayard put in: «Like thinking dream-girls exist.» Shea gave him a quick glare.

Chalmers continued: «Oh, well, if you start suffering from — uh — depressions, let me know. Let’s get down to business now.»

Shea asked: «More tests on hopheads?»

«No,» said Chalmers. «We will discuss the latest hypotheses in what we hope will be our new science of paraphysics, and see whether we have not reached the stage where more experimental corroboration is possible.

«I’ve told you how I checked my premise, that the world we live in is composed of impressions received through the senses. But there is an infinity of possible worlds, and if the senses can be attuned to receive a different series of impressions, we should infallibly find ourselves living in a different world. That’s where I got my second check, here at the hospital, in the examination of — uh — dements, mainly paranoiacs. You» — he nodded at Bayard — «set me on the right track with that report on the patient with Korsakov’s psychosis.»

«The next step would be to translate this theoretical data into experiment: that is, to determine how to transfer persons and objects from one world into another. Among the dements, the shift is partial and involuntary, with disastrous results to the psyche. When —»