She would see "this character whom I referred to as my Persian Prince." Dorothy had been an avid reader of philosophy all her life, and this mysterious figure suddenly began giving her wonderful esoteric teachings, which opened up a completely new dimension.
She told her analyst about it, and at the end of a week the man said, "You have found a 'yes-man.' Unless you give him up, I refuse to continue the analysis. You are lying, trying to make yourself self-important."
Dorothy was so excited about her new understanding, she said, "Look here, if I am lying, I have no business to be in psychoanalysis — then I am a sage or something!" The analyst got very angry, they argued, and she returned home with a blinding migraine.
She went to bed. Her first husband, Hugh Kingsmill (a well-known writer) said, "I am going to the library; can I get you a book?"
Dorothy said, "Yes, so long as it is a novel. I do not want any philosophy or anything about psychoanalysis."
At tea time, Hugh returned and put on her bed a book titled The Perfect Master by Charles Purdom. "In my irritation and general distress," Dorothy recalled, "I picked up the book and threw it down on the floor." The book fell open to the photograph at the beginning. Hugh picked it up and, looking reproachfully at her for her bad manners, handed it to her. Dorothy looked at the photograph of Baba and let out a yell. "This is my Persian Prince, the man who has been talking to me!" she exclaimed.
She forgot she had a migraine and spent the rest of the day reading the book. "I now knew that my experience was real," she recounted later. Will Backett's address was at the back, and she wrote to him at once. He came immediately, and Dorothy narrated what had happened to her. "My analyst will not go on with my treatment," she ended.
"Well, I do not know what you can do about that," Will counseled, "but your experience is quite genuine. This is how Baba works. Baba is calling you; he's calling you to him."
Dorothy wrote to Baba directly, and he sent her instructions to apologize to her doctor — and further, that if she had experiences again, not to tell him.
After Hugh died in 1949, Dorothy married Tom Hopkinson, whom she told a little about Baba.
