"My pipe, if you don't mind." He got it out and filled it.

"Any of those chairs," Hauserman said, gesturing toward them.

They were all arranged to face the desk. He sat down, lighting his
pipe. Hauserman nodded approvingly; he was behaving calmly, and didn't
need being put at ease. They talked at random--at least, Hauserman
tried to make it seem so--for some time about his work, his book about
the French Revolution, current events. He picked his way carefully
through the conversation, alert for traps which the psychiatrist might
be laying for him. Finally, Hauserman said:

"Would you mind telling me just why you felt it advisable to request a
psychiatric examination, Professor?"

"I didn't request it. But when the suggestion was made, by one of my
friends, in reply to some aspersions of my sanity, I agreed to it."

"Good distinction. And why was your sanity questioned? I won't deny
that I had heard of this affair, here, before Mr. Dacre called me,
last evening, but I'd like to hear your version of it."

He went into that, from the original incident in Modern History IV,
choosing every word carefully, trying to concentrate on making a good
impression upon Hauserman, and at the same time finding that more
"memories" of the future were beginning to seep past the barrier of
his consciousness. He tried to dam them back; when he could not, he
spoke with greater and greater care lest they leak into his speech.

"I can't recall the exact manner in which I blundered into it. The