Whatever the defects or limitations of this story, I can assure my readers that it is largely based on truth. Many of the incidents, including the dual personality phenomena, were suggested by actual happenings known to me. The doctor who accomplishes cures by occult methods is a friend of mine, who lives and practises in New York City. Seraphine, the medium, is also a real person. The episode that is explained by waves of terror passing from one apartment to another and separately affecting three unsuspecting persons is not imaginary, but drawn from an almost identical happening that I, myself, witnessed in Paris, France. And the truth about women that I have tried to tell has been largely obtained from women themselves, women in various walks of life, who have been kind enough to give me most of the opinions and experiences that are contained in Penelope's diary. To them I now gratefully dedicate this book.
ter in silence. "I see. Your husband died about four years ago?"
"Four years and a half."
"I judge that your married life was not very happy?"
"That is true, it was very unhappy."
"Is there anything in your memory of your husband, any details regarding your married life, that may have a bearing on your present state of mind?"
"I--I think perhaps there is," she answered hesitatingly.
"Is it something of an intimate nature that--er--you find it difficult to tell me about?"
"I will tell you about it, doctor, but, if you don't mind," she made a pathetic little gesture, "I would rather tell you at some other time. It has no bearing upon my immediate trouble, that is, I don't think it has."
"Good. We'll take that up later on. Now I want to ask another question. I understood you to say that when you did that brave act on the battle field you really wanted to--to have the whole thing over with?"
"Yes, I did."
"You did not go out to rescue Captain H
An anti-sex, anti-woman story of "sensual possession", yeargh.