Sometimes you seem no end of a duffer, and next minute you
come out with an amazing piece of penetration.) Well, these new
psychologists say that things like drinking, sex, drugging, kleptomania,
and all these bally nuisances that make people impossible members of a
community, come from repression. A man has a perfectly well-meaning
impulse to do something. His education, or his religion or his
convention tells him it's wrong, so he represses it. He fights it,
pushes it back. It gets encysted and, in time, forms a spiritual
abscess. It's got to break through. Of course, the idea is not to
repress things at all. I don't say let things rip, and go in for a whole
glorious orgy of wine, woman and song. But take the desire out, have a
talk with it, and make it look silly like Kraill made whisky look silly
to me. There, I thought that would interest you. (A bit more proof how
damnably clever he was!)
"Marcella, I told you then I'd be the same to you as Kraill was, didn't
I? I worshipped you; I wanted you; you were my saviour, and I'd have
picked up the Great Pyramid and walked off staggering with it if you'd
asked me. That was the path that carried me over my particular messy
morass (that, and my acquisitive spirit that objected to giving up part
of my goods and chattels!) And now--listen here, old lady! It's a thing
a chap couldn't say to most of his wives.
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