I said nothing, and Kennedy resumed. "'Book' was also to disarm her and she quickly replied in both cases, 'newspaper.' But 'lion' was different. I'll wager she thought first of Doctor Lathrop, for she went right back to the dream and answered 'path'—then, the second time, perhaps before she knew it, she answered 'beard'—which Lathrop has—when in fact I'll bet that if we tried it over again the answer she would give to cover it up would be 'mane.'
"'False-true-true' and 'voyage-Europe-Europe' need not be discussed. 'Money-poor-poor' we've already touched on and 'sad-myself-myself' falls into the same class—showing her despondency. With 'quarrel-Vail-words' her mind shows all is still fresh in her recollection. We know pretty well now what her inner feelings were toward him. However, quite naturally and stereotyped comes the next—'marry-Vail-Vail.' Of course. Consciously she would never think of herself marrying any one else—until there is a new deal, so to speak.
"But now we come to the most significant parts of all—the 'bull' sequence. The moment she heard that she hesitated, realized that she must not hesitate, and in a sort of mental panic answered the thing that came crowding into her mind, the pursuit by the bull and its hot 'breath,' which, you remember, we have already discussed. She must have regretted allowing herself to say it. That was one reason why I wanted to try the test over. Sure enough, the second time she corrected it to something quite innocent connected with the dream—'field.' Whether she realized it or not, it confirms what the Freud analysis showed us.
"Then," he went on, quite enthusiastic over the progress of his association test, "I reassured her by the next words and did not expect to obtain anything—'sleep-dream-dream' and 'foolish-wise-wise.' The next brings us squarely back to the subject that interests me most in my study of her, her real feelings toward Shattuck. I said 'despise.' At once, instead of associating, she sought the opposite—'love.' Yet that seemed, perhaps unconsciously, a bit strong. So she softened it next to 'like.' She did that for her own benefit. She herself would never betray to the world her own emotions. Therefore 'like' was a better word to use than 'love.' She has been trying to make them synonymous—with poor success."
I nodded. Somehow I felt that in her heart of hearts Honora had found love, whether she admitted it to herself or not. But I realized that even if she had, she would be the last to betray it to the outside world if she could help it.
"'Finger-hand-hand'—another of the off-guard words," continued Kennedy, quickly. "'Friend-none-none'—we have touched on this idea already. But now we come again to something very important—'serpent.' At once she answered 'hiss.' Then she changed it and the thought uppermost was the recollection of the 'crowd' in her dream. Remember Freud?—a crowd, something secret?
"The most important change of all, though, is the next—'face.' She knew that already I had questioned her on that point in the dream—the attributing of human faces to the animals that appeared to her in her dreams. Perhaps she recollected that she had told Doctor Lathrop once that the face in the dream resembled that of Shattuck. But she never would admit that to me. I fenced about with her on that point, both in the spoken and written dream, without getting a bit of satisfaction from her. She simply would not admit a thing. Yet I'm convinced that she told the truth first, that the face was that of Shattuck. However, with that still in her mind, she hesitates in recalling the dream. I'm sure her first thought was 'Shattuck.' But she put that out of her mind in the fifths of a second that elapsed. Instead, she answered just as quickly as she could, in the hope she had betrayed nothing, the colorless, 'man.'"
I said nothing. I was always fearful of whither Kennedy's psychanalysis was tending.
"Even the general 'man' was not explicit enough for her," he proceeded. "She meant that there should be no mistake as far as I was concerned. 'Man' might include Shattuck. So, on the second questioning she became more particular in her identification of the 'face.' This time it was 'stranger.' Doubtless she felt that it would eliminate both herself and Shattuck from consideration. But she was mistaken," he concluded, triumphantly. "Instead, it really points to Shattuck—and to herself, too. Unconsciously now, she is really trying to eliminate both herself and her lover—and she knows that he is that."
Kennedy flipped the list, as he added: "'Bottle-stopper-stopper' and 'glass-empty-empty.' An effort to get away from anything incriminating. Clever, too."