Part 16 (1/2)
”Unfortunately our a.n.a.lysis, perfect though it is, stops short. We have no synthesis.”
The Professor spoke as in deep sorrow.
”No synthesis,” we moaned. We felt it was a cruel blow. But in any case our notes were now elaborate enough. We felt that our readers could do without a synthesis. We rose to go.
”Synthetic dynamics,” said the Professor, taking us by the coat, ”is only beginning--”
”In that case--” we murmured, disengaging his hand.
”But, wait, wait,” he pleaded ”wait for another fifty years--”
”We will,” we said very earnestly. ”But meantime as our paper goes to press this afternoon we must go now. In fifty years we will come back.”
”Oh, I see, I see,” said the Professor, ”you are writing all this for a newspaper. I see.”
”Yes,” we said, ”we mentioned that at the beginning.”
”Ah,” said the Professor, ”did you? Very possibly. Yes.”
”We propose,” we said, ”to feature the article for next Sat.u.r.day.”
”Will it be long?” he asked.
”About two columns,” we answered.
”And how much,” said the Professor in a hesitating way, ”do I have to pay you to put it in?”
”How much which?” we asked.
”How much do I have to pay?”
”Why, Professor--” we began quickly. Then we checked ourselves. After all was it right to undeceive him, this quiet, absorbed man of science with his ideals, his atoms and his emanations. No, a hundred times no.
Let him pay a hundred times.
”It will cost you,” we said very firmly, ”ten dollars.”
The Professor began groping among his apparatus. We knew that he was looking for his purse.
”We should like also very much,” we said, ”to insert your picture along with the article--”
”Would that cost much?” he asked.
”No, that is only five dollars.”
The Professor had meantime found his purse.
”Would it be all right,” he began, ”that is, would you mind if I pay you the money now? I am apt to forget.”