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snapped.
    “Well, I guess,” Dan repeated as he turned back to the bedroom to dress.  In silence, they ate their breakfast.  The morning passed slowly.  When at last, the last patient had gone, Marjorie left, locking the door behind her, leaving Lydia and Dan alone.  Finishing up his paperwork, Dan came into Lydia’s office. “Shall we go?” he asked.
                  “I suppose we have to.”
                  “It might not be so bad, you know, to find out what’s causing your dream,” Dan said, attempting to make conversation as they walked down King Street.  “Hypnosis has been used successfully for years to control phobias and to help people quit smoking.”
                  “Since when did you become an expert on hypnosis?” Lydia asked as they turned on to Germain Street.  Sensing Dan’s anger, Lydia changed the subject.  “Early summer is such a lovely time of year.  The trees are dusted with a hundred shades of green and smell those lilacs,” Lydia continued non-stop as they walked to number 4235.
                  “Lydia,” Dan started.
                  “No, Dan, you’re right.  I can’t go on like this. It is just…”
                  Dan embraced her on the doorstep.  “I know darling. I really do.  I have tried to keep our life together separate from the pain of your childhood.  I know there are unanswered questions, and there are places you would rather not go, but perhaps hypnosis may give you the answers you seek. Maybe…” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
                  During their drive to the University, Dan once again broached the subject of hypnosis.  “Alan dropped off some journal articles which made very interesting reading.  There are one or two articles you might enjoy reading.”  He reached his hand across to stroke Lydia’s thigh.  “Can we make peace now?  I love you, Lydia, and you know I can’t take this silent treatment.”
                  She turned to him, tears glistening in her eyes, taking his hand in hers. She whispered, “I’m scared.”
                  “There is nothing to be afraid of.  He is an expert in the study of dreams. Relax. Everything is going to be fine. Here we are. I’ll just park over there.”
                  “I hope so,” Lydia whispered as she watched Dan drive away. She felt light-headed, her palms were sweaty, her heart pounded, her stomach soured as she approached Hazen Hall.  Then, mustering her resolve, Lydia forged into the building. Checking her wristwatch, she descended to the lower level.
                  Lydia recognized Stokes from Dan’s description of him.  ‘Good looking fellow,’ she thought, ‘but too blonde for my taste’.  She allowed Stokes to usher her into his office. The scent of sandalwood incense and the soft tonal notes of Pachelbel’s ‘Canon in D’ pleased her.  The hint of cherry pipe tobacco reminded Lydia of her father. Indeed the whole office did; from the book-lined walls to the battered oak desk with its over-flowing glass ashtray.  Lydia felt completely relaxed.  She marveled at the similarity of the two windowless University offices.  She liked this fellow and his cluttered office. Maybe he could help.
                  Alan Stokes stood with his hand extended in the doorway of his office.   She was bewitching.  His gaze scanned her body from her long shapely legs to the perky set of her breasts beneath the gauzy sundress she wore.  He ushered her into his office to the smooth leather chair facing his desk.  He was distracted by her loveliness as he seated himself behind the desk.
                  “Now, Lydia,” he began, “I am not sure how much Dan has told you about me, so let me introduce myself.   My name is Alan Stokes.  I am a graduate of the University of Edinburgh in Scotland with a Masters