“Did Number Five go to meet you in your laboratory, as she talked of
doing?”
“Oh, yes, of course she did,--why, she said she would!”
“Oh, to be sure. Do tell me what she wanted in your laboratory.”
“She wanted me to burn a diamond for her.”
“Burn a diamond! What was that for? Because Cleopatra swallowed a
pearl?”
“No, nothing of that kind. It was a small stone, and had a flaw in it.
Number Five said she did n't want a diamond with a flaw in it, and that
she did want to see how a diamond would burn.”
“Was that all that happened?”
“That was all. She brought the two Annexes with her, and I gave my three
visitors a lecture on carbon, which they seemed to enjoy very much.”
I looked steadily in the Professor's face during the reading of the
following poem. I saw no questionable look upon it,--but he has a
remarkable command of his features. Number Five read it with a certain
archness of expression, as if she saw all its meaning, which I think
some of the company did not quite take in. They said they must read
it slowly and carefully. Somehow, “I like you” and “I love you” got a
little mixed, as they heard it. It was not Number Five's fault, for she
read it beautifully, as we all agreed, and as I knew she would when I
handed it to her.