Dr. Aarons escorts them to his office. "Here are his medical records. His primary presenting condition is scotophobia-- episodes of panic while asleep. Pulse and breathing are rapid, pupils are dilated, hair stands on end. He is confused and hard to calm down. I administer half a fluid ounce of laudanum nightly to stop these periods. A smaller dose was ineffective because it permitted Mr. Roby to dream."

That's-- a lot of laudanum. That's a lot.

That's a wild sentence to hear! Okay. Okay, cool, cool, cool. Terrence smiles politely.

...dreaming, huh.

"Does he, ah, know what you're trying now, with us, by the way?"

"Yes. I've prepared him for visitors. I will send you with Nurse Price-- hospital policy-- but I myself won't accompany you. I think he'll be more willing to open up without me in the room."

...uhuh. "Sounds quite reasonable."

Don't knock the wonders of modern medicine. Frankly he trusts that the laudanum is having an effect on his neurology more than he trusts any of this behaviorism stuff.

"There is no family history of insanity nor does Mr. Roby have any history of insanity himself. I believe Mr. Roby's illness stems from the murder of his family and the grief and perhaps guilt he feels."

He's trying not to let it show because now is not the time-- and William Jing is right there, what a joy-- but the thought of this guy locked up and drugged is sincerely depressing.

"Further evidence for this is that Mr. Roby functions well without medication from April to October of each year. I believe that the winter period reminds him of the murder."

...please let them at least be handling the inevitable withdrawal sensibly.

...he is not going to bet that the 'rewards' are, ahem, pharmacological in nature, but that's because there's probably no one here who would take the complementary bet. It fits the pattern.

"...have you ruled out lack of sunlight?"

"Excellent question, Miss Sinope! We have tried giving him more sunlight in winter, it doesn't seem to help."

"Right. Is there anything else in the environment that'd be seasonal-- and you said he's only been here two years, when did you notice that pattern?"

"He was medicated upon admission in November 1925 and kept on it until April 1926. He was free of medication and of panic attacks until a scotophobia incident on October 19th 1926, when he was given two three-month prescriptions. After that he was unmedicated and free from attacks from April 1927 until another recent incident on October 15th."

"...do you happen to know which days in April?"

"The twenty-fifth and the fifteenth."

"Does he report dreams of anything in particular?"

"Something called... the yellow sign?"

Polite, slight, frozen smile. "Ah."

"Sorry, is this 'yellow sign' something you hear about a lot in your line of work?" Oscar can't think of any literary precedents off the top of his head.

"I've never heard of it before. I assume it has some personal meaning."

"Well," Sal says dryly. "It's evidence in favor of bohemianism. I'm pretty sure that's from a play."

Terrence looks at Oscar.