It was clear, not only from the slips which evaded Ace’s guard, but from less restrained remarks by other fellows, that Barbara’s tortured jealousy was a fixture of her character. She had created feuds, slandered and reviled fellows who had been guilty of nothing except trying to interest her father in some project in which she herself was not concerned. I learned much more also, much Ace had no desire to convey. But he was a poor hand at concealing anything, and it was clear he was helplessly subject to her, but without the usual kindly anesthetic of illusion. I guessed he had enjoyed her favors, but she evidently didnt bother to hide the fact that the privilege was not exclusive; perhaps indeed she insisted on his knowing. I gathered she was a fiercely moral polyandrist, demanding absolute fidelity without offering the slightest hope of reciprocal singlemindedness. _12._ _MORE OF HAGGERSHAVEN_ Among the fellows was an Oliver Midbin, a student of what he chose to call the new and revolutionary science of Emotional Pathology. Tall and thin, with an incongruous little potbelly like an enlarged and far-slipped adamsapple, he pounced on me as a ready-made and captive audience for his theories. “Now this case of pseudo-aphonia—” “He means the dumb girl,” explained Ace, aside. “Nonsense. Dumbness is not even the statement of a symptom, but a very imperfect description. Pseudo-aphonia. Purely of an emotional nature. Of course if you take her to some medical quack he’ll convince himself and you and certainly her that there’s an impairment, or degeneration, or atrophy of the vocal cords—” “I’m not the girl’s guardian, Mr Midbin—” “Doctor. Philosophiae, Göttingen. Trivial matter.” “Excuse me, Dr Midbin. Anyway, I’m not her guardian so I’m not taking her anywhere. But, just as a theoretical question, suppose examination did reveal physical damage?” He appeared delighted, and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, it would. I assure you it would. These fellows always find what theyre looking for. If your disposition is sour theyll find warts on your duodenum. In a postmortem. In a postmortem. Whereas Emotional Pathology deals with the sour disposition and lets the warts, if any, take care of themselves. Matter is a function of the mind. People are dumb or blind or deaf for a purpose. Now what purpose can the girl have for muteness?” “No conversation?” I suggested. I didnt doubt Midbin was an authority, but his manner made flippancy almost irresistible. “I shall find out,” he said firmly. “This is bound to be a simpler maladjustment than Barbara’s—” “Aw, come on,” protested Ace. “Nonsense, Dorn; obscurantic nonsense. Reticence is a necessary ingredient of those medical ethics by which the quacks conceal incompetence. Mumbo jumbo to keep the layman from asking annoying questions. Priestly, not scientific approach. Art and mystery of phlebotomy. Don’t hold back knowledge; publish it to the world.”