‘Why do you suppose that was?’
‘I don’t know. You tell me.’
‘Suppose,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘that there was some episode so unpleasant to you that you wouldn’t dare relive it.’
‘Unpleasant? You think freezing to death isn’t unpleasant?’
‘There are all kinds of unpleasantness. Sometimes the very thing you’re looking for—the thing that’ll clear up your trouble—is so revolting to you that you won’t go near it. Or you try to hide it. Wait,’ he said suddenly, ‘maybe „revolting” and „unpleasant” are inaccurate words to use. It might be something very desirable to you. It’s just that you don’t want to get straightened out.’
‘I want to get straightened out.’
He waited as if he had to clear something up in his mind, and then said, ‘There’s something in that „Baby is three” phrase that bounces you away. Why is that?’
‘Damn if I know.’
‘Who said it?’
‘I dunno… uh…’