The doctor drummed his fingers absently against his chin for a moment. He was broad shouldered and swarthy skinned; attired differently, he would have made a convincing countryman. He sighed, long and low, and after a moment said quietly, "Not mad. That is not the word I would choose. But please, do tell me about your...dreams," the way he lingered over the word made plain his discomfort at talking to Mr. Ethanson.