* * * *
He glanced only briefly at the body as they carried it past his office door.
“Yes,” he said to Mrs. Colby, as he finished signing his name, “he died sane.” He handed her the check with a ceremonious little bow. “Here you are, madam, minus the cost of the robot, and a few other expenses."
Her voice almost failed, and she left the office with a choked, quiet farewell. Rhoum gazed after her for a moment, smiling faintly; then chose a stylus, and wrote in his logbook, “Colby, Frank. Discharged cured” he glanced at his watch, “11:52, 3rd of Einstein, 2467."
Then he picked up the telephone to make his report to the police psychologists.
* * *
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Crime Therapist Page 2
