"Heal the world of its hate of me," I cried out. "What you say is all so vague. Does the mind exist?"
"It Is the only thing that does exist. Without mind man and the universe would collapse; the winds would weary and the world stand still. Sin-tossed humanity, expressed in tempest and flood, the divine mind calms and limits with a word."
I rose hastily to go. Chance alone and weariness of life had led me to enter the woman's parlor, but there was no forgetfulness in it. Impatience spurred me to be moving, and I turned to the door, with the polite fiction that I was leaving town but might soon consult the healer.
"That makes no difference," she persisted, getting between me and the door. "We treat many cases, of belief in unhappiness by the absent method. From 9 to 10 A. M. we go into the Silence for our Eastern patients. Our ten o'clock is nine o'clock for those living in the central time belt. At 11 A. M. it is nine for those in Denver or Rocky Mountain time region. Thus we are in the Silence during the entire forenoon, but it is always nine for the patient. Will you not arrange for treatment; you really look very badly?"
To my astonishment the woman followed me to the outer door, abruptly changing her tone.
"I know very well why you don't get healed," she said. "You fill your mind with antagonistic thoughts by reading papers that are fighting some one on every page. You want to get into some kind of society where you can pay $15 or $20 a week and get free healing, and you are disappointed because I won't give you my time and strength for nothing, so that you can have the money to go somewhere and have a good time. Oh, I know you society people!"
By degrees her voice had lost its cooing tone and had risen to a shriek. I was amazed--until I remembered the rival across the street, who was probably watching me from behind closed blinds.
As I walked away with the woman's angry words ringing after me from the doorstep, I was divided between amusement and despair; I cannot express it by any other phrase. And that cynical mingling of feelings was the nearest approach to contentment that I had known for days.
The feeling died away; reaction came. It was the worst hour of my life. The thought of suicide--the respite I had always held in reserve against a day too evil to be borne--pressed upon my mind.
