Breaking eye contact, Rayner picked up Little Albert, who cooed as he wrapped his plump little arms around her neck. Watson opened the door, and she left. He closed the door behind her.

Watson took the mattress off the table and placed it on the floor. He then took off his coat and folded it neatly before putting it on the table, where it was quickly joined by his tie. He sat on the mattress to remove his shoes.

* * *

“We’re not going to stay here much longer, guys,” Watson told the class. “In addition to showing you part of a classic study in the history of psychology, I thought you would find it interesting to see the beginning of the romance that ruined John Watson as an academic psychologist. Actually, Watson had had lots of little dalliances before Rosalie Rayner came along, and his wife Mary had always looked the other way, perhaps figuring that she should have known her husband would have a roving eye and a thing for female students. After all, she had been a student in one of his classes before their marriage.

“But Watson’s fling with Rayner was different from all the rest. He fell madly, passionately in love with the young woman and wrote her graphic love letters that Mary discovered. The subsequent divorce finished him in terms of university employment. He subsequently went into advertising, where he made significantly more money than he could ever have made as a professor.” Watson turned back to the front of the Waybach so that he could monitor what was happening and return the class to the present before his ancestors’ tryst got too far along. He turned up the sound, because he knew how softly Watson and Rayner spoke during the next scene.

* * *