“I don’t want your little talk interrupted. Still less, far, far less, do I want it uninterrupted. I mean while I’m here. A little of your scientific conversation goes a long way with me; I know what you’re like when you’re really chatty. Professor Green will say in his satirical way ‘9920.05,’ to which you will reply with quiet humour ‘75.007.’ This will be too good an opening for a witty fellow like the Professor, who will instantly retort ‘982.09.’ Not in the best taste perhaps, but a great temptation in the heat of debate.” “Commander Blair,” said the Professor, “is very kind to let me share his calculations.” “Lucky for me,” said Blair. “I’d have done ten times more with a mathematician like you.” “Well,” said Pierce casually, “as you are so much immersed in mathematics, I’ll leave you. As a matter of fact, I had a message for Professor Green, about Miss Dale at the house where he was lodging; but we mustn’t interrupt scientific studies for a little thing like that.” Green’s head came up from the papers with great abruptness. “Message!” he cried eagerly. “What message? Is it really for me?” “8282.003,” replied Pierce coldly. “Don’t be offended,” said Blair. “Give the Professor his message and then go if you like.” “It’s only that she came over to see my wife to find out where you had gone to,” said Pierce. “I told her, so far as it’s possible to tell anybody. That’s all,” he added, but rather with the air of one saying “it ought to be enough.” Apparently it was, for Green, who was once more looking down upon the precious papers, crumpled one of them in his clenched hand unconsciously, like a man suddenly controlling his feelings. “Well, I’m off,” said Pierce cheerfully; “got to visit the other dumps.” “Stop a minute,” said Blair, as the other turned away. “Haven’t you any sort of public news as well as private news? How are things going in the political world?” “Expressed in mathematical formula,” replied Pierce over his shoulder, “the political news is MP squared plus LSD over U equals L. L let loose. L upon earth, my boy.” And he climbed again into his castle of the air. Oliver Green stood staring at the crumpled paper and suddenly began to straighten it out. “Mr. Blair,” he said, “I’m terribly ashamed of myself. When I see you living here like a hermit in the mountains and scrawling your calculations, so to speak, on the rocks of the wilderness, devoted to your great abstract idea, vowed to a great cause, it makes me feel very small to have entangled you and your friends in my small affairs. Of course, the affair isn’t at all small to me; but it must seem very small to you.” “I don’t know very precisely,” answered Blair, “what was the nature of the affair. But that is emphatically your affair. For the rest, I assure you we’re delighted to have you, apart from your valuable services as a calculating machine.”