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Page 20
April 11. I hardly slept last night, and found myself
in the morning so unstrung and feverish that I was
compelled to ask Pratt-Haldane to do my lecture for me.
It is the first that I have ever missed. I rose at
mid-day, but my head is aching, my hands quivering, and
my nerves in a pitiable state.
Who should come round this evening but Wilson. He has
just come back from London, where he has lectured, read
papers, convened meetings, exposed a medium, conducted
a series of experiments on thought transference,
entertained Professor Richet of Paris, spent hours
gazing into a crystal, and obtained some evidence as to
the passage of matter through matter. All this he
poured into my ears in a single gust.
"But you!" he cried at last. "You are not looking
well. And Miss Penclosa is quite prostrated to-day.
How about the experiments?"
"I have abandoned them."
"Tut, tut! Why?"
"The subject seems to me to be a dangerous one."
Out came his big brown note-book.
"This is of great interest," said he. "What are your
grounds for saying that it is a dangerous one? Please
give your facts in chronological order, with
approximate dates and names of reliable witnesses with
their permanent addresses."
"First of all," I asked, "would you tell me whether you
have collected any cases where the mesmerist has gained
a command over the subject and has used it for evil
purposes?"
"Dozens!" he cried exultantly. "Crime by
suggestion----"
"I don't mean suggestion. I mean where a sudden
impulse comes from a person at a distance--an
uncontrollable impulse."
"Obsession!" he shrieked, in an ecstasy of delight.
"It is the rarest condition. We have eight cases, five
well attested. You don't mean to say----" His
exultation made him hardly articulate.
"No, I don't," said I. "Good-evening! You will excuse
me, but I am not very well to-night." And so at last
I got rid of him, still brandishing his pencil and his
note-book. My troubles may be bad to hear, but at
least it is better to hug them to myself than to have
myself exhibited by Wilson, like a freak at a fair. He
has lost sight of human beings. Every thing to him is
a case and a phenomenon. I will die before I speak to
him again upon the matter.
April 12. Yesterday was a blessed day of quiet, and I
enjoyed an uneventful night. Wilson's presence is a
great consolation. What can the woman do now? Surely,
when she has heard me say what I have said, she will
conceive the same disgust for me which I have for her.
She could not, no, she COULD not, desire to have a
lover who had insulted her so. No, I believe I am free
from her love--but how about her hate? Might she not
use these powers of hers for revenge? Tut! why should
I frighten myself over shadows? She will forget about
me, and I shall forget about her, and all will be well.
April 13. My nerves have quite recovered their tone.
I really believe that I have conquered the creature.
But I must confess to living in some suspense. She is
well again, for I hear that she was driving with Mrs.
Wilson in the High Street in the afternoon.
April 14. I do wish I could get away from the place
altogether. I shall fly to Agatha's side the very day
that the term closes. I suppose it is pitiably weak of
me, but this woman gets upon my nerves most terribly.
I have seen her again, and I have spoken with her.
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