"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 

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