Holden doesn't answer. He's centering Leon's eye on the machine.

Leon: I kinda get nervous when I take tests.

Holden: Don't move.

Leon: Sorry.

He tries to move, but finally his lips can't help a sheepish smile.

Leon: I already had an I.Q. test this year... but I don't think I ever had a...

Holden: Reaction time is a factor in this so please pay attention. Answer as quickly as you can.

Leon: Uh... sure...

Holden: One one eight seven at Hunterwasser...

Leon: Oh... that's the hotel.

Holden: What?

Leon: Where I live.

Holden: Nice place?

Leon: Huh? Sure. Yeah. I guess. Is that...part of the test?

Holden smiles a patronizing smile.

Holden: Warming you up, that's all.

Leon: Oh. it's not fancy or anything.

Holden: You're in a desert, walking along in the sand when...

Leon: Is this the test now?

Holden: Yes. You're in a desert, walking along in the sand when all of a sudden you look down and see a...

Leon: What one?

It was a timid interruption, hardly audible.

Holden: What?

Leon: What desert?

Holden: Doesn't make any difference what desert... its completely hypothetical.

Leon: But how come I'd be there?

Holden: Maybe you're fed up, maybe you want to be by yourself...who knows. So you look down and see a tortoise. It's crawling toward you...

Leon: A tortoise. What's that?

Holden: Know what a turtle is?

Leon: Of course.

Holden: Same thing.

Leon: I never seen a turtle.

He sees Holden's patience is wearing thin.

Leon: But I understand what you mean.

Holden: You reach down and flip the tortoise over on its back, Leon.

Keeping an eye on his subject, Holden notes the dials in the Voight-Kampff. One of the needles quivers slightly.

Leon: You make up these questions, Mr. Holden, or do they write 'em down for you?

Disregarding the question, Holden continues, picking up the pace.

Holden: The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over. But it can't. Not with out your help. But you're not helping.

Leon's upper lip is quivering.

Leon: Whatya means, I'm not helping?

Holden: I mean you're not helping! Why is that, Leon?

Holden looks hard at Leon, a hard piercing look. Leon is flushed with anger, breathing hard, it's a bad moment, he might erupt. Suddenly Holden grins disarmingly.

Holden: They're just questions, Leon. In answer to your query, they're written down for me. It's a test designed to provoke an emotional response.

Leon is glaring now, the blush subsides, his anger slightly diffused. Holden smiles cheerfully, very smooth.

Holden: Shall we continue?

Leon nods, still frowning, suspiciously.

Holden: Describe in single words. Only the good things that come to your mind. About your mother.

Leon: My mother... I'll tell you about my mother.