"Ah, that I cannot say. Sometimes it is a matter of months,
sometimes it has been known to be as long as twenty years!
Sometimes another shock does the trick. One restores what the
other took away."

"Another shock, eh?" said Julius thoughtfully.

"Exactly. There was a case in Colorado----" The little man's
voice trailed on, voluble, mildly enthusiastic.

Julius did not seem to be listening. He had relapsed into his
own thoughts and was frowning. Suddenly he came out of his brown
study, and hit the table such a resounding bang with his fist
that every one jumped, the doctor most of all.

"I've got it! I guess, doc, I'd like your medical opinion on the
plan I'm about to outline. Say Jane was to cross the herring
pond again, and the same thing was to happen. The submarine, the
sinking ship, every one to take to the boats--and so on.
Wouldn't that do the trick? Wouldn't it give a mighty big bump to
her subconscious self, or whatever the jargon is, and start it
functioning again right away?"

"A very interesting speculation, Mr. Hersheimmer. In my own
opinion, it would be successful. It is unfortunate that there is
no chance of the conditions repeating themselves as you suggest."

"Not by nature, perhaps, doc. But I'm talking about art."

"Art?"