"So I am to understand that I am curable?"
"Curable? Why, surely! Exactly as I have written in my work; or as Doctor So-and-So, and the great psychiatric Professor Such-a-One, proved long ago. Your case, my dear sir, is the easier because you suffer in a sentimental and sexual way from what we call the obsession of a set, distinct Type, you see; instead of a general—h'm—how shall I style it?—morbidity of your sex-inclinations. It is largely mere imagination I You say you have never really 'realized' this haunting masculine Type which has given you such trouble? My dear sir, don't think any more about such nonsense! You never will 'realize' it in any way to be—h'm—disturbed. Probably had you married and settled down pleasantly, years ago, you would laugh heartily now at the whole story of such an illusion of your nature. Too much thought of it all, my dear friend! Too much introspection, idealism, sedentary life, dear sir! Yes, yes—you must marry—God bless you!"
"I paid my distinguished specialist his fee and came away, with a far lighter heart than I had had in many a year."[1]The Tragic Retreat:
Four Instances.
But for Uranians betrothed, as for heterosexuals, withdrawals are not always easy or uneventful. So comes the tragic sort of history—with the abrupt runaway, the "missing" bridegroom—not to be; the suicide, the maniac, the murderer. Here is a short series of instances:
- ↑ cf. "Imre: a Memoradum:" by Xavier Mayne.
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