Unfinished (Historical Fiction) by Harper Alibeck Page A

social niceties, and applied the weapon of laying the next move at Burnham's feet.
    “You speak so boldly of sexual matters, doctor.”
    He laughed, head thrown back and to the left, and answered, “I do nothing more than treat sexual issues as surgeons treat wounds. We would not fear discussing a man's amputation in clinical terms. A woman's vagina, or a man's penis, should be given the same respect.”
    She grinned conspiratorially, “That won't happen in our lifetime, I'm afraid.”
    “Depends,” he said, “on how long you plan on living.”
    A flash of memory of Miss Evangeline Wolf made her blood run cold again.
    A smack filled the room, followed by a smattering of dust in the air as Burnham slapped the stack of books. “Your condition is called 'saline liquor.'”
    “Saline?” Her heart sank. “But I thought you said it wasn't urine.”
    “It's not. The term is a misnomer, used by a famous seventeenth century French obstetrician, François Mauriceau.” Burnham put his glasses back on, instantly aging himself and making him considerably less attractive to Lilith, a relief she didn't realize would feel so good. Burnham read, “He described 'saline liquor during coition, which increases the heat and enjoyment of women' – and thus we find the beginning of our understanding of the fluid that you emit during sexual arousal.”
    “So it is normal?”
    “What is normal?” Burnham lobbied back, smiling.
    Irritation rose in her, combating the relaxed, congenial feeling she'd been enjoying. “No one has ever described this as a part of 'normal' female sexuality.”
    “Miss Stone, how often has anyone discussed female sexuality with you in any detail? How would such a subject come up at all in your life? Such matters are not part of the conversation or instruction of young women.”
    “But this 'saline liquor' is an oddity, no?”
    Burnham nodded, referring to another book. “Yes, though I've found ample descriptions in medical and psychoanalytic texts.”
    “Freud? Freud describes it?” Lilith rolled her eyes.
    “I'm afraid so,” he chuckled. “He links it to hysteria. Kraft-Ebbing connected it to sexual inversion. If you had stayed for my full lecture last month, you'd have heard that detail.”
    A sharp knock on the door made Lilith jump.
    “Yes, Mary?” Burnham called out.
    A muffled, low voice answered, “You next appointment, doctor.”
    “Thank you.” He closed his book and looked at Lilith with a wistful expression. “Worrying about what is normal in sexual matters is common for men and women, but it is more important to worry about emotional and physical health. Your saline liquor is well-documented, but yes – rare.”
    “But it's not...”
    “It is not incontinence. If anything, some scientists believe it to be an ejaculation much like that found in men.”
    Father always said I was a man in female form.
    “And for reproduction?”
    “This has no effect.” He glanced at a wall clock and smiled tightly. “I'm afraid we must end. If you find the condition to be a hindrance in daily life, please see me again.”
    “But Doctor, why did this start shortly after my time in McLean? And why does it happen at night, in bed, without a man?”
    Nodding, he walked her toward the door. “It is a sign of arousal. Much like a teenage boy with nocturnal emissions. You've tapped the limits of my research into this issue, Miss Stone. I can assure you only that it is part of your sexual makeup, and any husband will need to accept,” he paused and shook his head quickly, “no – appreciate – this proclivity.”
    Did his lips twitch with amusement? Lilith wasn't certain. The conversation began to feel a bit too prurient, and the vulnerable feeling returned.
    “I thank you for your forthright information, doctor.”
    “And I thank you, Miss Stone, for helping me to expand my understanding of the field.” A formal half-bow preceded the closing of his door. As Lilith stepped out of the office