As she spoke, the old man entered from the next room. He was a
Greek, also, but of a more common, and, perhaps, lower type; dark
and fiery, thin and graceful; his delicate figureand cheeks, wasted
by meditation, harmonised well with the staid and simple philosophic
cloak which he wore as a sign of his profession. He paced
impatiently up and down the chamber, while his keen, glittering eyes
and restless gestures betokened intense inward thought .... 'I have
it .... No; again it escapes--it contradicts itself. Miserable man
that I am! If there is faith in Pythagoras, the symbol should be an
expanding series of the powers of three; and yet that accursed
binaryfactor will introduce itself. Did not you work the sum out
once, Hypatia?'

'Sit down, my dear father, and eat. You have tasted no food yet
this day.'

'What do I care for food! The inexpressible must be expressed, the
work must be done if it cost me the squaring of the circle. How can
he, whose sphere lies above the stars, stoop every moment to earth?

'Ay,' she answered, half bitterly, 'and would that we could live
without food, and imitate perfectly the immortal gods. But while we
are in this prison-house of matter, we must wear our chain; even
wear it gracefully, if we have the good taste; and make the base
necessities of this body of shame symbolic of the divinefood of the
reason. There is fruit, with lentils and rice, waiting for you in
the next room; and bread, unless you despise it too much.'

'The food of slaves!' he answered. 'Well, I will eat, and be ashamed
of eating. Stay, did I tell you? Six new pupils in the