He could not honestly say
that he was able to put his finger upon any definite signs of madness
exhibited by Valentine, any that would satisfy a mad-doctor. He could
only say that Valentine's character had been strangely beautiful and was
now strangely evil, and that the soul of Julian was following rapidly the
soul of Valentine. The more closely he watched Valentine, the more
astounded did he become and the more eager to detach Julian from him. But
the strangest thing of all, as the doctor allowed in one of his frequent
self-communings, was, that though formerly he had loved Valentine
better than Julian, it never occurred to him that the work of rescue
might be undertaken on behalf of the former. His mind dismissed the new
Valentine into a region that was beyond his scope and power. He felt
instinctively that here was a soul, a will, that his soul could not turn
from its ends or detach from its pursuits. The new Valentine was a law to
himself. What moved the doctor to such horror was that the new Valentine
was a law to Julian. And there was something peculiarly dreadful in the
idea which he held, that Julian, once under the beautiful influence of
Valentine's sanity, was now under the baneful influence of his insanity.
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