"Surely a man like Schopenhauer would be above such weakness."
"Above humanity? I think not, Colonel Graeme."
"You think, then, that every man must—must——"
"I don't think at all about it, I'm sure. That's what he exists for, and woman too, though she pretends not to. I should say I know my Schopenhauer better than you do, Colonel Graeme."
"In that case, if we exist solely as prospective fathers and mothers, and the attraction between the sexes is merely the cry of the unborn child, the stronger the attraction the finer the child. Any two people who feel that attraction should—should——" He stopped, confused, for the light grey eyes were on him, and the look in them brought him to a standstill.
"If we were beasts of the field, no doubt we should be as they are. Rating ourselves, however—perhaps wrongly—as higher, we recognise the necessity of social laws. But tell me, or don't if you like, what was the matter with you just now. I'm professionally interested."
"I don't know, it's a thing that has been growing on me lately; whenever I'm excited it comes on as it did then. It's a nuisance when I don't want it, though useful enough when I do. I can't control it, though, that's the mischief, but I'm boring you."
"No, you're not, go on, tell me what you mean by not controlling it."
"Why, this. Whenever I'm in a difficulty, and don't know what to do—have to fight a battle, for instance, and can't think of a plan—I just shut my eyes and let myself go. For the moment I seem to lose consciousness of my present self and become another, and that other always knows and tells me what to do. Then I sort of wake and do it. D'you think I'm mad, Miss Selbourne?"
"I think," said Stara slowly, looking at him, "you're going the right way to make yourself so. That other self you talk about is—call it the subconscious, if you like; and let that—and you're encouraging it to do so—gain the upper hand over the conscious, and madness results. I should stop it at once, Colonel Graeme; it's deadly dangerous."