that time she went right into a fit of hysterics.Why? Is she--?" I gulped.
"She's recovering nicely, Dixon."
"Then why can't I see her?"
"Well," said van Manderpootz placidly, "it's like this. You see, whenyou rushed into the laboratory there, you made the mistake of pushingyour face in front of the barrel. She saw your features right in themidst of all those horrors she had called up. Do you see? From then onyour face was associated in her mind with the whole hell's brew in themirror. She can't even look at you without seeing all of it again."
"_Good--God!_" I gasped. "But she'll get over it, won't she? She'llforget that part of it?"
"The young psychiatrist who attends her--a bright chap, by the way, witha number of my own ideas--believes she'll be quite over it in a coupleof months. But personally, Dixon, I don't think she'll ever welcome thesight of your face, though I myself have seen uglier visages somewhereor other."
I ignored that. "Lord!" I groaned. "What a mess!" I rose to depart, andthen--then I knew what inspiration means!
"Listen!" I said, spinning back. "Listen, professor! Why can't you gether back here and let her visualize the ideally beautiful? And thenI'll--I'll stick my face into that!" Enthusiasm grew. "It can't fail!" Icried. "At the worst, it'll cancel that other memory. It's marvelous!"
"But as usual," said van Manderpootz, "a little late."
"Late? Why? You can put up your idealizator again. You'd do that much,wouldn't you?"
"Van Manderpootz," he observed, "is the very soul of generosity. I'd doit gladly, but it's still a little late, Dixon. You see, she married thebright young psychiatrist this noon."
Well, I've a date with Tips Alva tonight, and I'm going to be late forit, just as late as I please. And then I'm going to do nothing but stareat her lips all evening.
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