“And the one before?”
“Glad.”
“And the one before that?”
“Sad.”
So they went on back through the years until with some hesitation the girl said once more, “Sad.”
“Why?” the psychologist asked quickly.
“I wanted a doll. I had always had a new doll for Christmas. The lady gave me no doll.”
“But who always gave you a doll at Christmas?” In the young psychologist’s eye shone a strange light.
“A man, a short, jolly man.”
“And the last doll he gave you had golden hair?” He leaned forward eagerly.