" brought "chair."
"Gone." "Bag" came like a flash.
In quick succession, without pause, came the words--
"Bank." "Note."
"Door." "Bolt."
"Money." "Letters," without any apparent connection.
Wardrop was going to the bad. When, to the next word, "staircase,"
again, he said "scar," his demoralization was almost complete. As for
me, the scene in Wardrop's mind was already in mine--Schwartz, with the
scar across his ugly forehead, and the bolted door to the staircase
open!
On again with the test.
"Flour," after perhaps two seconds, from the preceding shock, brought
"bread."
"Trees." "Leaves."
"Night." "Dark."
"Gate." He stopped here so long, I thought he was not going to answer at
all. Presently, with am effort, he said "wood," but as before, the
association idea came out in the next word; for "electric light" he gave
"letters."
"Attic" brought "trunks" at once.
"Closet." After perhaps a second and a half came "dust," showing what
closet was in his mind, and immediately after, to "match" he gave "pen."
A long list of words followed which told nothing, to my mind, although
the doctor's eyes were snapping with excitement. Then "traveling-bag"
again, and instead of his previous association, "woman," this time he
gave "yellow." But, to the next word, "house," he gave "guest." It came
to me that in his mental processes I was the guest, the substitute bag
was in his mind, as being in my possession. Quick as a flash the doctor
followed up--
"Guest." And Wardrop fell. "Letters," he said.
To a great many words, as I said before, I could attach no significance.
Here and there I got a ray.
"Elderly" brought "black."
"Warehouse." "Yard," for no apparent reason.
"Eleven twenty-two." "C" was the answer, given without a second's
hesitation.
Eleven twenty-two C! He gave no evidence of having noticed any
peculiarity in what he said; I doubt if he realized his answer. To me,
he gave the impression of repeating something he had apparently
forgotten. As if a number and its association had been subconscious, and
brought to the surface by the psychologist; as if, for instance, some
one prompted a--b, and the corollary "c" came without summoning.
The psychologist took the small mouthpiece from his lips, and motioned
Wardrop to do the same. The test was over.
"I don't call that bad condition, Mr.--Wardrop," the doctor said. "You
are nervous, and you need a little more care in your habits. You wan
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