you ever frightened as a child?'

'I don't remember. It began when I was a boy.'

'With or without the spasm? By the way, do you mind describing the spasm
again?'

'Well,' said Conroy, twisting in the chair, 'I'm no musician, but
suppose you were a violin-string--vibrating--and some one put his finger
on you? As if a finger were put on the naked soul! Awful!'

'So's indigestion--so's nightmare--while it lasts.'

'But the horror afterwards knocks me out for days. And the waiting for
it ... and then this drug habit! It can't go on!' He shook as he spoke,
and the chair creaked.

'My dear fellow,' said the doctor, 'when you're older you'll know what
burdens the best of us carry. A fox to every Spartan.'

'That doesn't help _me_. I can't! I can't!' cried Conroy, and burst into
tears.

'Don't apologise,' said Gilbert, when the paroxysm ended. 'I'm used to
people coming a little--unstuck in this room.'

'It's those tabloids!' Conroy stamped his foot feebly as he blew his
nose. 'They've knocked me out. I used to be fit once. Oh, I've tried
exercise and everything. But--if one sits down for a minute when it's
due--even at four in the morning--it runs up behind one.'

'Ye-es. Many things come in the quiet of the morning. You always know
when the visitation is due?'

'What would I give not to be sure!' he sobbed.

'We'll put that aside for the moment. I'm thinking of a case where what
we'll call anaemia of the brain was masked (I don't say cured) by
vibration. He couldn't sleep, or thought he couldn't, but a steamer
voyage and the thump of the screw--'

'A steamer? After what I've told you!' Conroy almost shrieked. 'I'd
sooner ...'

'Of course _not_ a steamer in your case, but a long railway journey the
next time you think it will trouble you. It sounds absurd, but--'

'I'd try anything. I nearly have,' Conroy sighed.

'Nonsense! I've given you a tonic that will clear _that_ notion from
your head. Give the train a chance, and don't begin the journey by
bucking yourself up with tabloids. Take them along, but hold them in
reserve--in reserve.'

'D'you think I've self-control enough, after what you've heard?' said
Conroy.

Dr. Gilbert smiled. 'Yes. After what I've seen,' he glanced round the
room, 'I have no hesitation in saying you have quite as much
self-control as many other people. I'll write you later about your
journey. Meantime, the tonic,' and he gave some general directions
before Conroy left.

An h