So this is the kind of man Phil is: A caged animal. Caged animals always have their secrets, their anxieties, their repressed base impulses. Either that, or he has experienced some severe traumas, possibly related to the war, in America, and he has not quite recovered. However, Javert has seen many a case of post-traumatic stress, and Phil does not quite fit the bill. No, no; this is the brand of wide-eyed, squirrelish paranoia most often exhibited by hunted men. Javert knows that archetype intimately.
Well. We all have something secret to keep, don't we? Phil's, judging by the irritability, is something sensitive, perhaps something under-the-table, something still lurking over his shoulder. The guarded answers tells Javert all he needs to know, and in a span of several intent seconds, he judges: it is only a matter of time before Phil will slip up and show his corruption, if that's what he hides. Or that whatever-he-hides-from pops its head into school affairs for a peek.
Javert visibly relaxes. Now that he is decided of Phil's sort, he knows exactly how to proceed with their professional relationship. He knows how to be watchful and patient. He can even be amiable in the meantime, observe whether his creeping suspicions are the intuits of a madman, or if they ring true. That's all it takes.]
Peace, [he says at last, though he does not sound particularly repentant.] I ask you simply because I am curious.
You are right that this is not a psychotherapy, and I don't have any interest in that. What do I need with your detailed psychiatric and therapeutic history? Horrifically dull things, psychiatric reports, all in psycho-jargon. You haven't given me a reason to pry that deep. You are a colleague. Not a prisoner.
You want another round of drink, don't you? Barkeep!
no subject
Javert struck a nerve. Indubitably.
So this is the kind of man Phil is: A caged animal. Caged animals always have their secrets, their anxieties, their repressed base impulses. Either that, or he has experienced some severe traumas, possibly related to the war, in America, and he has not quite recovered. However, Javert has seen many a case of post-traumatic stress, and Phil does not quite fit the bill. No, no; this is the brand of wide-eyed, squirrelish paranoia most often exhibited by hunted men. Javert knows that archetype intimately.
Well. We all have something secret to keep, don't we? Phil's, judging by the irritability, is something sensitive, perhaps something under-the-table, something still lurking over his shoulder. The guarded answers tells Javert all he needs to know, and in a span of several intent seconds, he judges: it is only a matter of time before Phil will slip up and show his corruption, if that's what he hides. Or that whatever-he-hides-from pops its head into school affairs for a peek.
Javert visibly relaxes. Now that he is decided of Phil's sort, he knows exactly how to proceed with their professional relationship. He knows how to be watchful and patient. He can even be amiable in the meantime, observe whether his creeping suspicions are the intuits of a madman, or if they ring true. That's all it takes.]
Peace, [he says at last, though he does not sound particularly repentant.] I ask you simply because I am curious.
You are right that this is not a psychotherapy, and I don't have any interest in that. What do I need with your detailed psychiatric and therapeutic history? Horrifically dull things, psychiatric reports, all in psycho-jargon. You haven't given me a reason to pry that deep. You are a colleague. Not a prisoner.
You want another round of drink, don't you? Barkeep!