The psycho-analyst put his finger tips together, judicially.  “Yes.  The war bore me out,” he observed with a certain complacence.  “It added a great deal to our literature, too, although some of the positions are not well taken.  Van Alston, for instance—­”

“You have said, I think, that every man has a breaking point.”

“Absolutely.  All of us.  We can go just so far.  Where the mind is strong and very sound we can go further than when it is not.  Some men, for instance, lead lives that would break you or me.  Was there —­was there such a history in this case?”

“Yes.”  Doctor David’s voice was reluctant.

“The mind is a strange thing,” went on the little man, musingly.  “It has its censors, that go off duty during sleep.  Our sternest and often unconscious repressions pass them then, and emerge in the form of dreams.  But of course you know all that.  Dream symbolism.  Does the person in this case dream?  That would be interesting, perhaps important.”

“I don’t know,” David said unhappily.

“The walling off, you say, followed a shock?”

“Shock and serious illness.”

“Was there fear with the shock?”

David hesitated.  “Yes,” he said finally.  “Very great fear, I believe.”

Doctor Lauler glanced quickly at David and then looked away.

“I see,” he nodded.  “Of course the walling off of a part of the past—­you said a part—?”

“Practically all of it.  I’ll tell you about that later.  What about the walling off?”

“It is generally the result of what we call the protective mechanism of fear.  Back of most of these cases lies fear.  Not cowardice, but perhaps we might say the limit of endurance.  Fear is a complex, of course.  Dislike, in a small way, has the same reaction.  We are apt to forget the names of persons we dislike.  But if you have been reading on the subject—­”

“I’ve been studying it for ten years.”

“Ten years!  Do you mean that this condition has persisted for ten years?”

David moistened his dry lips.  “Yes,” he admitted.  “It might not have done so, but the—­the person who made this experiment used suggestion.  The patient was very ill, and weak.  It was desirable that he should not identify himself with his past.  The loss of memory of the period immediately preceding was complete, but of course, gradually, the cloud began to lift over the earlier periods.  It was there that suggestion was used, so that such memories as came back were,—­well, the patient adapted them to fit what he was told.”

Again Doctor Lauler shot a swift glance at David, and looked away.

“An interesting experiment,” he commented.  “It must have taken courage.”

“A justifiable experiment,” David affirmed stoutly.  “And it took courage.  Yes.”

David got up and reached for his hat.  Then he braced himself for the real purpose of his visit.