On A Clear Day You Can See Forever Page #3

I could have my couch taken away

from me for this, but you don't think

by any chance this could be a case

of extrasensory perception, ESP?

All right.

Find the girl, hypnotize her

and prove to yourself

whether or not it was a trick.

You're against scientific research?

How can ESP be called a science

when there is no scientific proof

- that ESP exists?

- What do you mean, exists?

Two people have

the same thought at the same time.

It's happened millions of times.

It exists,

but psychiatry calls it coincidence.

- That's what it is.

- Many people are not so certain,

- and for a very good scientific reason.

- Rubbish.

Pure, unadulterated rubbish.

Violet. Lily. Rose.

Mrs Hatch?

This is my address

for that lunch tomorrow.

- You can type it now.

- Oh, doctor, there's a...

When you've finished, telephone

every student in my 11:00 class

until you find someone who

remembers the name of the girl

I hypnotized by mistake

this morning and...

Oh, you mean Daisy Gamble?

Will you please tell me

how you knew that?

Well, she told me.

She's in the waiting room.

- Miss Gamble?

- Oh, hello, doctor.

Hello. This way, please.

- No calls, Mrs Hatch.

- I'll go to work on your address.

Did you lose another one?

No. Follow me.

- Now, Miss Gamble...

- I'll make it quick.

Do you know the name of a good

hypnotist I can go and talk to

and see if he could help me lay off

these cigarettes

before tomorrow night, or else

Warren won't get that job, see?

Then I won't bother you any more.

Do you understand? Understand.

You don't even know who Warren is.

Oh, he's my fianc.

Go on.

- Go on?

- Yes.

Well, you see, over here, you know,

in the United States, they have

these big companies that send out

these personnel directors

to these colleges to sign up

the bright students and their wives.

Well, Warren...

Remember? He's my fianc.

He's graduating in the top 2 percent

of the business school

and Chemical Foods, Inc.,

wanna give him a lifetime contract,

see, and I can ruin it. I mean,

you know, if they don't like me.

I mean, that's that.

And they're not gonna like me.

Because Warren told me, you know,

that they don't like addicts,

and I'm an addict.

And I'm an addicted addict.

I can't stop

unless somebody

like you can make me.

Is that possible?

It's possible, provided it's not

a symptom of neurosis, or...

No, no, I'm normal. I swear.

I'm just an addict, that's all.

Last year I took some of these

vocational-guidance tests, you know,

not for a job, but for Warren

to get to know me better,

and you know the results?

What?

Healthy, adjusted

and no character.

I mean, no character of any kind.

I mean, not even any characteristics.

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