" He stopped
and looked at Lanfear. "She has these sudden fits of drowsiness, when
she _must_ sleep; and I never see her wake from them without being
afraid that she has wakened to everything--that she has got back into
her full self, and taken up the terrible burden that my old shoulders
are used to. What do you think?"
Lanfear felt the appeal so keenly that in the effort to answer
faithfully he was aware of being harsher than he meant. "That is a
chance we can't forecast. But it is a chance. The fact that the
drowsiness recurs periodically--"
"It doesn't," the father pleaded. "We don't know when it will come on."
"It scarcely matters. The periodicity wouldn't affect the possible
result which you dread. I don't say that it is probable. But it's one
of the possibilities. It has," Lanfear added, "its logic."
"Ah, its logic!"
"Its logic, yes. My business, of course, would be to restore her to
health at any risk. So far as her mind is affected--"
"Her mind is not affected!" the father retorted.
"I beg your pardon--her memory--it might be restored with her physical
health.
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