Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 98: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WISHFUL THINKING his pride. He saved the most powerful argument until last. : “Naturally, any donation _ you should make to the hospital can be set against your income tax.” His smile was pure man-of-the-world. **In that case a large donation would only cost you a frac- tion of its face value. It would mean a lot to us, little to you, but of course, that would not be mentioned in the publicity.” She nodded, her eyes thoughtful and, watching her, Hammond had a moment of intense revulsion. He knew her type, knew it too well. She was the sort of woman, wealthy, jaded, who was will- ing to spend money for the opportunity of talking dirt to a man under the guise of psychological treatment. Her interest in the hospital was a fad, an opportunity to acquire a thrill but, as long as she paid for it, Hammond was willing to accommodate her. He rose to his feet. “Would you like to see the wards? I would be happy to 97 guide you over the hospital.” She agreed, as he knew she would, and together they left the soft comfort of the office for the bleak sterility of the hospital proper. It was, in a way, a trip into hell. The hospital was crowded, the staff overworked, the routine reduced to one of inhuman efficiency. Hammond led the way down a narrow corridor lined with doors, each door fitted with a panel of toughened glass. *“Padded cells, * he ex- plained. “For the most violent cases.” “Violent?” She craned her short neck and peered through the glass. “This one seems quiet enough.” “They have their cycles of emotional activity,” said Hammond. “Sometimes they just sit and withdraw into themselves, at others they will burst into unmanageable rages, and always we have to guard against the possibility of suicide.” He continued the tour. conmmiclsooks.com