He said he'd always wanted to meet me and I said I'd never heard of him and he laughed because he was amused, not because he laughed when he didn't know what else to do, like an American businessman.
He sat down in one of my chairs and refused a drink and said, "Tell me all you think I ought to know about Paul."
Three hours and several hundred questions later he left.
Paul was going to be all right.
Not soon—but someday when he'd learned the masochisms, sadisms, castration complexes, repressed homosexual feelings, mistaken anima identification, archetypal possessions, and other data not shown by the meters in his laboratory.
Hargrave H.P. Adams had plenty of what it would take. I wouldn't have minded asking him some of my own questions. He had come up with a few suggestions and formulations unknown to me....
That brought the evening up past midnight.
I felt wretched.
You are apt to, when you think they're going to stand you against the stone wall the next morning.
There were, of course, Tom's pills.