Cuckoo gave a little cry of surprise, then hastily glanced at the
coachman's back and pushed her hands under the rug up towards her mouth.
"Hush," said the doctor. "Only listen quietly."
"Yes, pardon," she said. "But he ain't--oh, he can't be."
"I am forced to think it, forced to think it," the doctor said, with
pressure. "He has, in great measure, one of the most common, most
universal, of the fatuous beliefs of the insane,--a deep-rooted, an
almost incredible belief in himself, in his own glory, power, will,
personality."
Cuckoo tried to throw in some remark here, but he went on without a
pause:
"There are madmen confined in asylums all over England who think
themselves the Messiah--this is the commonest form of religious
mania--emperors, kings, regenerators of the human race, doers of great
deeds that must bring them everlasting fame. On all other points they
are sane, and you might spend hours alone with them and never discover
the one crank in their mind that makes the whole mind out of joint. So
you have been alone with Mr. Cresswell and have not suspected him. Yet
he has a madness, and it is this madness which leads him to this
frightful conduct of his towards Julian, conduct which you will never
know the extent of.
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