his mind were convinced, he might actually participate in this solemn act of retributive justice.
Such a manner was more arresting to George Judson than hands laid on him could have been. He halted and turned upon the doctor strangely.
"But let's be sure it is before we do it," qualified the psychoanalyst, and centered his glance upon George calmly as though he addressed a reasoning being.
"I must have been blind. I must have been blind," George now reiterated.
"Blind! You were worse than blind," declared the doctor bluntly. "You were stupid!"
"But the question is now—what to do?"
"If you're a big man—big enough—" calculated the doctor, as weighing his man estimatingly, "you might win her back."
"Win her back?" George cried hoarsely.
"Yes. Although the bits of dreams she told me last night revealed clearly that the issue had been settled in her heart, she has hesitated so long in her mind that she might hesitate longer still, and so I say that you might—win her back."
"In God's name, how?" the husband appealed.
"By doing what she, wants. Humor her. Indulge her. Shame her. Drop everything and go with her—go hunt the Garden of Eden! That was pitiful! She has lost her Eden all right—poor little girl. Go look for it with her. Buy a yacht and cruise round the world—anything
