The Argosy, January 1906 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE OUTCAST. He was taught to walk as a child is taught, but he learned everything much more rapidly than the most forward child. Although he had awakened to this new and strange existence with a mind perfectly blank, the matured powers of his mental self were all there, and when once set in motion they absorbed knowl- edge with marvelous quickness. The bruises and cuts upon his head being healed, Lloyd was once more pos- sessed of his usual strength. In an hour he walked about the room very well, and aside from some little awkwardness, acted quite like an ordinary person. However, one very queer point Bur- ress noted. His patient’s gait was quite different from what Lloyd’s once had been. He did nothing involuntarily, or in the way he used to do it before his injury. There was plainly a complete separation of the man’s dual natures— a barrier between the old Seymour Lloyd and this new man who bore his name and wore his physical appearance. Burress possessed the enthusiasm of the born investigator. Almost hourly he found some surprising phase of the case which had not been revealed to him before. Yet underlying all his interest, the basis of his desire to cultivate Lloyd’s struggling intelligence was his hope of finding the key to that other person- ality which the accident had shut away from both the patient himself and from his friends. To educate the new Seymour Lloyd and to mold his existence into the sem- blance of his previous life was one thing; te merge this existence with that other was the greater problem. Some- how and by some means, safely and sanely, Lloyd must be led back to a knowledge of what his life had been before he awoke on the couch in Mun- hall’s old-fashioned parlor. In bringing this desired object about, Burress would risk his own safety; for with the return of memory to the pa- tient would not the strongest and most vivid remembrance of all be that of the murder of Solon Burress? Yet the physician persevered. The pain and mortification Leslie suffered through Lloyd’s plainly expressed dis- 313 like for her urged the doctor to his task. He had promised Leslie to do his ut- most to bring Lloyd back to his right mind and place him in her arms again. With that end in view he sought upon every possible occasion to turn the pa- tient’s thoughts to the girl he had once loved so devotedly. But Lloyd’s strange distaste for fe- male society, which had been so marked upon his first being aroused, continued unabated. Once Burress asked him if he did not prefer to observe a nice-look- ing woman rather than a nice-looking man. The answer, considering the physi- cian’s object, was, to say the least, dis- couraging. “T don’t hke women people. I don’t hike their clothes. The clothes make a noise when they move; they don’t look hike you, doctor, and me,Seymour Lloyd. Or like Orrin Paddock. Or like Nathan. Sometimes their voices sound nice; but they can’t hft me when I am in bed, hke you, doctor.” Yet the emotion of affection had been aroused in the man. His devotion to the doctor was dog-like, and he plainly showed his enjoyment of Orrin Pad- dock’s society. He was rapidly developing strong likes and dislikes. And, it could not be denied, Leslie Searle came under the category of people of whom Lloyd, in his present state, disapproved. CHAPTER XIII. THE MARVEL. LESLIE SEARLE had more than once defied public opinion by some act of independence. Her devotion to Lloyd in his present state set gossip’s tongue awag, and her parents would have for- bidden her attendance upon him had they dared so assert themselves. Hay- ing had her own way all her life, Leslie was not now minded to brook interfer- ence. She declared her intention of fitting herself for the profession of a trained nurse, and as soon as the new hospital | was built proposed applying for a posi- tion therein. Meanwhile, she was be- com chook (Efe)