'I shall make a point of doing so,' said the professor drily. He
affected to be giving only partial attention to the narrative; but though
he seemed to be sedulous in his examination of the papyrus, he was
listening intently.

'I was a great disappointment to the Dons,' Carrel said with a short
laugh, and he lit a cigarette with all the swagger of an undergraduate.

'And to your parents?' queried Lachsyrma.

'My mother was dead. I don't exactly know who my father was. I fear
these details bore you, however. To-morrow--' he added satirically.

'A very romantic story, no doubt,' said the Professor, rising from his
chair, 'and it interests me--moderately; but before we go on any further,
I will be candid with you. That papyrus is a forgery--a very clever
forgery, too. I wonder why the writer tried Euripides; we have almost
enough of him.'

'So do I sometimes,' returned Carrel cheerfully. The Professor arched
his eyebrows in surprise.

He removed the green cardboard lampshade to keep his equivocal visitor
under strict observation.

'If you knew it was a forgery, why did you waste my time and your own in
bringing it here? In order to tell me a long story about yourself, which
if true is extraordinarily dull?'

It is almost an established convention for experts to be rude when they