"Well, that is all," said Dr. Woolley, when he saw she was determined to go. "Good morning, Suzanne. I am glad to have seen you again."
"Good morning, Dr. Woolley," she replied.
She went out and Mrs. Dale wrung her hands. "I wish I knew what was to be done," she exclaimed, gazing at her counselor.
Dr. Woolley brooded over the folly of undesired human counsel.
"There is no need for excitement," he observed after a time. "It is obvious to me that if she is handled rightly, she will wait. She is in a state of high strung opposition and emotion for some reason at present. You have driven her too hard. Relax. Let her think this thing out for herself. Counsel for delay, but don't irritate. You cannot control her by driving. She has too stern a will. Tears won't help. Emotion seems a little silly to her. Ask her to think, or better yet, let her think and plead only for delay. If you could get her away for two or three weeks or months, off by herself undisturbed by your pleadings and uninfluenced by his—if she would ask him of her own accord to let her alone for that time, all will be well. I don't think she will ever go to him. She thinks she will, but I have the feeling that she won't. However, be calm. If you can, get her to go away."
"Would it be possible to lock her up in some sanatorium or asylum, doctor, until she has had time to think?"
"All things are possible, but I should say it would be the most inadvisable thing you could do. Force accomplishes nothing in these cases."
"I know, but suppose she won't listen to reason?"
"You really haven't come to that bridge yet. You haven't talked calmly to her yet. You are quarreling with her. There is very little in that. You will simply grow further and further apart."
"How practical you are, doctor," observed Mrs. Dale, in a mollified and complimentary vein.