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The only memorable scene in HD's otherwise muzzy, self-absorbed memoirs of the Professor, mainly taken from two series of meetings she had with him in 1933-1934 when Freud was seventy-seven, occurs during an analytic session. Evidently the deeper fish weren't rising and HD was simply dimpling the surface with her toes. Suddenly Freud begins to beat on the headboard of the horsehair sofa she'd been reclining and reminiscing on till his fist roused her. 'The trouble is—I am an old man—you do not think it worth your while to love me.'
Review, 3968 words
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