You call yourself names, insist
without proof that you're a murderer.

You know what that is, don't you?
A guilt complex that speaks for you.

A guilt fantasy that goes way back
to your childhood.

I think you're quite mad.
You're much crazier than I...

to do all this for a creature
without a name.

To run off with a pair of initials.
The police have not given your name
or case history to the papers...

That must mean that your name was
not in Dr. Edwardes' files...

You were in an accident.
Where was it?
What happened to your hand?
It was burned.

You had an operation
in the last 6 months.

A skin graft, 3rd degree burns.
Your hand was burned. Where?

-lt hurts.
-Try remembering.

-My hand hurts.
-Your hand is remembering...

open your mind
and the pain will leave.

-Where did it happen?
-I can't it hurts.

-What happened?
-My hand's burning.

Try to remember.
-My dear are you all right?
-I'm all right. What happened?

You re-lived an accident
you'd been in...

But the memory only touched
the part of your mind that feels...

It's beginning, it really is.
You'll feel better soon.

-Who could that be?
-I know.

I sent down for
the latest editions of the papers.

You ordered the afternoon papers?
They just came, I brought them up.

Just a minute.
-Here you are.