"Oh! you men! you men! Once get a thing into your head, and nothing will beat it out. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. In this state it would have been all over with him, as, being stunned by the fall, it was some moments before he could recover himself, if another party had not unexpectedly come to his rescue. “I’m fine,” she said softly. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. Look here.
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