own latest work, “The Fourth and Further Dimensions.” He knew her at once, and now he appreciated, more than ever in his youth, the radiance of her eyes and of her wings, for now he understood it.
“Dear, beautiful Fairy,” he said, “how glad I am to see you again.”
“I’ve been with you all the time,” she said. “I wish I could do something more for you. Is there anything you want?”
The great Mathematician who was Edwin ran his hand over his thin hair.
“No,” he said, “no.” And then he remembered the school and Simpkins minor and the old desk he used to keep firework fusees in. “Unless,” he added, “you could make me young again.”
She dropped a little tear, clear as a solved problem.
“I can’t do that,” she said. “You can’t have everything. The only person who could do that for you is the Love Fairy. If you had found her instead of me you would have been always young, but you wouldn’t have invented the Hypernebular Hypothesis.”
“I suppose I shall never never find her now?” said Edwin, and as he spoke he looked out of the window to the garden, where a girl was gathering roses.
