Edward S. Van Zile

“ Woodruff had noticed my emotion I felt sure.
"Well, what is your explanation of all this, doctor?" I asked, impatiently. I was thoroughly out of harmony with myself, Mrs. Jack and the physician, and my pride revolted at the false position in which I had been placed. A skeptic who goes to a clergyman for guidance sacrifices both his logic and his dignity. Here I sat in Dr. Emerson Woodruff's office, under an assumed name, telling a stranger weird tales about a supposititious acquaintance who was in reality my own husband. Had I not been unfair to Tom, Dr. Woodruff and myself? ”

“ Woodruff laughed aloud. His merriment restored my equilibrium, and I hastened to explain.
"Won't you believe me, doctor, when I say that I have not come to you in an antagonistic mood? I am intensely interested in the problem we have laid before you—and I feel sure you can help us to read the riddle. We have a friend who has no music in his soul. Suddenly he begins to play Chopin like a master. Then he develops a fondness for duets. We fear the future. ”

“ You have stated the case clearly and in minute detail, but my experience in the new school of medicine—if such it can be called—convinces me that you have inadvertently omitted some significant factor in the premises, without which I can vouchsafe to you nothing more valuable than sweeping generalities. In other words, you have given me an opportunity to lay before you a theory, but no chance to suggest to you a practical line of action. ”