"Mexico," grabbing the young statistician's arm.
"Eh?" Roger interuppted eying a lovely looks a bit like Rita Hayworth in a one-piece floral number with straps that X across her lean back. . . .
"Mexico, I think I am hallucinating."
"Oh, really? You think you are? What are you seeing?"
"Mexico, I see . . . I see . . . . What do you mean, what am I seeing, you nit? It's what I'm hearing."
"Well, what are you hearing, then." A touch of peevishness to Roger now.
"Right now I'm hearing you, saying, 'What are you hearing, then.' And I don't like it!"
"Why not."
"Because: unpleasant as this hallucination is, I find I still much prefer it to the sound of your voice."