"You don't seem to have much of a memory for anything when it comes to
Brannan. What you see in a guy like that, I don't know."
"What's wrong with him?"
"Not a thing. He's a nice guy. Quiet, respectable, deep--and only one
thing on his mind."
"What?"
He glared at her. "You're a smart girl," he said. "You work with me in
this laboratory eight hours a day. You are engaged in a very complex
experiment with the human brain, registering its waves and emanations
in relation to thought, emotions and purely psychological relations.
You've got a degree in psychology, another in psychiatry, a third in
biology. You have written several advanced papers on the functions of
the subconscious mind and its effect on the conscious mind. You have
kept this job for three years, exacting as it is. You're a _brilliant_
girl. And yet you can ask a stupid question like that!"