"I've been studying it for ten years."
"Ten years! Do you mean that this condition has persisted for ten
years?"
David moistened his dry lips. "Yes," he admitted. "It might not have
done so, but the--the person who made this experiment used suggestion.
The patient was very ill, and weak. It was desirable that he should
not identify himself with his past. The loss of memory of the period
immediately preceding was complete, but of course, gradually, the cloud
began to lift over the earlier periods. It was there that suggestion
was used, so that such memories as came back were,--well, the patient
adapted them to fit what he was told."
Again Doctor Lauler shot a swift glance at David, and looked away.
"An interesting experiment," he commented. "It must have taken courage."
"A justifiable experiment," David affirmed stoutly. "And it took
courage. Yes."
David got up and reached for his hat. Then he braced himself for the
real purpose of his visit.
"What I have been wondering about," he said, very carefully, "is this:
this mechanism of fear, this wall--how strong is it?"
"Strong?"
"It's like a dam, I take it. It holds back certain memories, like a
floodgate. Is anything likely to break it down?"
"Possibly something intimately connected with the forgotten period might
do it. I don't know, Livingstone. We've only commenced to dig into
the mind, and we have many theories and a few established facts. For
instance, the primal instincts--"
He talked on, with David nodding now and then in apparent understanding,
but with his thoughts far away. He knew the theories; a good many of
them he considered poppycock. Dreams might come from the subconscious
mind, but a good many of them came from the stomach. They might be
safety valves for the mind, but also they might be rarebit. He didn't
want dreams; what he wanted was facts. Facts and hope.
The office attendant came in. She was as tidy as the desk, as obsessed
by order, as wooden. She placed a pad before the small man and withdrew.
He rose.
"Let me know if I can be of any further assistance, Doctor," he said.
"And I'll be glad to see your patient at any time. I'd like the record
for my files."
"Thank you," David said. He stood fingering his hat.
"I suppose there's nothing to do? The dam will either break, or it
won't."
"That's about it. Of course since the conditions that produced the
setting up of the defensive machinery were unhappy, I'd say that
happiness will play a large part in the situation. That happiness and
a normal occupation will do a great deal to maintain the status quo.
Of course I would advise no return to the unhappy environment, and no
shocks. Nothing, in other words, to break down the wall."