she added.

"And you know," he burst out in the midst of her words, "they can't
blame me! It isn't my own fault--they know it's in the family, only they
haven't the decency to admit it. But I know--different people in my
family who are cut by the respectable ones--I've raked them out, and
ever since I've felt hopeless."

"Oh no--no," she cried, suddenly throwing out her hands as if to ward
off something horrible. Leaning forwards she gripped his shoulder. "It's
so silly! Besides, think how cowardly it is to say you must do a thing
because someone else has done it."

"It's killed lots of my people, or landed them in asylums--they're not
talked about in the family, but I know it," he raved.

"Well, I think you're a perfect idiot," she cried impatiently. "Why, if
you saw about twenty people on this ship walk overboard in a procession,
that's no reason why you should do it too, is it?"

"That just shows you don't understand the power of suggestion," he said.
"At the hospital--I'll never forget it. There was a girl brought in
dying of burns. We got it from her that she was very unhappy and had set
herself on fire because the woman next door had been burnt to death. Old
Professor Hay, our lecturer in psychology, explained it to us. He said
the girl was in a weak state of nerves and health generally, owing to
family troubles she'd had to shoulder. She was receptive to suggestion,
you see. And she was too tired to think logically. Seeing the burnt
woman there very peaceful, and people sorry for her--don't you see?"