Sorry I have to go, had a perfect
hand, would've beaten all of you.

-Harry will take you Miss Carmichael.
-Thank you.

Watch her carefully,
don't take your eyes off her.

-How are you today, Harry?

-You look a little bilious.
-lt's the light.

-I worry about you, dear.
-I'll be all right.

Must we dash into
Dr. Petersen's office?

Can't we go sit somewhere
in private...

-and talk, just you and I?
-I'd love it, if I had time.

Would you?
Come in.
You ruined a very interesting
card game, Dr. Petersen.

-You may go now, Harry.
-I'll be outside.

-I hope you feel better today, Mary.
-Well, I don't.

-You will.
-This whole thing is ridiculous.

-What whole thing, Mary?
-Psychoanalysis, it's so boring...

Lying there on the couch,
like some dreary nitwit, telling all.

You can't expect to get anywhere...
listening to me babble about my
idiotic childhood. Really?

My patients always regard me
as a nuisance during our first talks.

I see, it's my subconscious
putting up a fight...

-lt doesn't want me cured.

it wants to continue
enjoying your disease.

Our job is to
make you understand why.

When you know why
you do something...

and when you first
started doing it...

-Then you can start curing yourself.
-You mean I've been telling you lies.

The usual proportion.
You're right.
I've been lying like mad...

I hate men, I loathe them.
If one so much as touches me
I want to sink my teeth...

into his hand
and bite it off.

In fact I did that once.
Would you care to hear about it?