Then he grew very, very sober, and said: "I'm sorry, little girl, but I'm afraid I haven't got any medicine that will prevent--a divorce.

If I did have, there'd be no eating or drinking or sleeping for me, I'm thinking--I'd be so busy answering my calls." "Then it _is_ a disease!" I cried.

And I can remember just how frightened I felt.

"But isn't there any doctor anywhere that _can_ stop it ?" He shook his head and gave that queer little laugh again.
"I'm afraid not," he sighed.

"As for it's being a disease--there are people that call it a disease, and there are others who call it a cure; and there are still others who say it's a remedy worse than the disease it tries to cure.