The social stigma of disease, and the emotional dissolution it projects, as the recoil of the outside world exacerbates the tragedy of the epileptic -- and gives to the story of Frank and Maggie Harrison a very real and intense identification. For Frank, who only wants to love his wife, raise his children well, and practice law, -- and Maggie, who is tremendously appealing in her generous responsiveness, find that all they'd hoped for is reversed after the first seizure -- which costs her her job. And from her mother's solicitousness to the revulsion of a friend, from the impairment of Frank's love -- from which passion is now forfeit, from the bitter acceptance of the fact that she can never have a child -- nor adopt one, branded as ""unfit"" or a ""misfit"", Maggie retreats -- not from the disease -- but from the horror it induces in others. While Frank, whose direct assurance of the three things he'd wanted is destroyed, fears that he is unequal to the situation, loses his job as well as his hopes, but in so doing proves his love and in his need for Maggie provides the antidote and answer to despair.... Affecting, absorbing, this is both a protest and a plea with a particularly likeable and recognizable young couple as the case in point.