A young woman was accustomed to receiving a bouquet of flowers from her husband on her birthday. One year this token of his affection failed to appear, and she burst into tears. Her husband came in and had no idea why she was crying until she told him that today was her birthday. He clasped his hand to his head and exclaimed: 'I'm so sorry. I'd quite forgotten. I'll go out at once and fetch your flowers.' But she was not to be consoled.; for she recognized that her husband's forgetfulness was a proof that she no longer had the same place in his thoughts that she had formerly. -- This lady, Frau L. . . . had come to me for treatment.
Freud (1900, pb. 202-203)