Louise and I had spent the night together at my apartment; we were getting along well with each other when we rose the next morning. I wanted to ask her some questions about how she was doing. She was rather friendly when I began asking the questions. Finally I said, "And I want to know something about your husband."
She suddenly became very defensive and said, "No, I'm not going to talk with you about that. I'll just have to leave."
I walked over to her, grabbed both her arms, shook her and said, "No, I want you to tell me about it. I want you to tell me why he killed his father."
She became very upset and began crying. I had the impression she was afraid of her husband. I said, "You're married to a killer."
Suddenly I imagined another woman in the room. I turned toward the woman, pointed my finger at her as if my finger were a gun and said, "He walked up to her with a gun and went "Bang." I want to know what happened."
Louise was becoming hysterical. She said, "Somebody broke into his apartment. He thought they were carrying a knife. He jumped up and ...."
The way she talked was rather frightening. I thought I heard someone outside and wondered if it were Louise's husband. I became rather frightened. I thought he was probably mentally ill.
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