David.
“Now here,” Beefy pleaded. “Let’s scram. It’s his place. Somebody’ll call the cops and we’ll all be in a jam.”
David and Beefy led Hunt toward the door. The girls followed. But Sara found no will to leave. She moved, yet muscular progress seemed impeded by a wall of unfelt force. That was why she was last to reach the corridor, the last to reach the outer door. It was why, standing doubtfully at the door, she felt the tall lean man immediately behind her, his awful eyes upon her. She felt a touch, ice cold, upon her She felt a touch, ice cold, upon her wrist. When she glanced down, she saw his hand.
PIERRE DE CAMP D’AVESNES chuckled with satisfaction as he boarded the last train in the Reading’s Market Street sheds. He still saw Hardt’s frown; Grillot’s red face and disbelieving eyes; and he still heard Han- ling’s irritated snort of contempt which he knew was only a cover for his defeat.
He could have filled the bill for Guy de Maupassant’s Joseph de Bardon. For he had wit without much depth, a general knowledge without real learning, and quick perception without serious penetration. These three qualities he had exhibited with considerable shrewdness that night, to the discomfort of some of the others.
Oh, he had led up to the subject casually enough. The argument about the spirit world had reached the point where Grillot was knocking holes in the various planes that, Manning Trent suggested, lie beyond this life. Pierre extracted a crumpled envelope from his pocket and, pencil in hand, drew upon it. Me did it quite obviously but the effect was that of a cat watching a mouse hole, and finally Mouse Hanling stuck his head out.
“What's that?” he demanded, leaning forward.
“This?” Pierre's round fleshy face attained such dignity as it could. “It’s a one-dimensional world.”
“All I see’s a straight line.” Hanling snorted.
The others looked too.
“That,” said Pierre, “is because you lack imagination.”
“You wouldn’t mean.” inquired Trent, “that it’s one of the three dimensions humans perceive?”
“Exactly,” said Pierre. “Length.”
“Trash!” exploded Grillot. “That’s as abstract as a four-dimensional world. You can’t have one human dimension without the other two.”
Pierre inclined his thick neck.
“Certainly. That’s why I say Hanling has no imagination. But, see here. I’ll put a man down here—a one-dimensional man. Let's call him X. His knowledge, his power, are limited to that one dimension, this straight line. It’s his only world and it runs in both directions to infinity. He can travel upon it, forward or backward.
“Now, let's say he’s traveling forward. He meets with a two-dimension rock-slide. It had length, but it also has height. How’ll he surmount this rock slide so he can continue his journey?”
Hanling pursed his lips.
“Go around?”
“There's nothing to go around,” said Pierre.
“Well, dammit, let him climb over, then.” Pierre’s smile revealed his irregular teeth. “Impossible. You forget, he’s a one-dimensional creature and hasn’t the power to leave his one-dimensional world, which he’d have to do if he climbed over. The result is, you have to accept this fact: this obstacle of two dimensions is, to him. a mystery. It is a fence between his own world and some other world he can’t penetrate and can but dimly comprehend.”
Grillot frowned. He grunted:
“I see that. It's sense.’’
Pierre looked at Trent, whose eyes showed he thought he knew what was coming. Pierre
said:
“So let’s follow up and see where we get. We'll place a two-dimensional creature in this one-dimensional world. We’ll call him Y. He travels along the line, comes to the two-dimensional rock-slide and he .climbs over. Now if you were in X's shoes, wouldn't that appear to be a miracle?”
Hanling
“Now here,” Beefy pleaded. “Let’s scram. It’s his place. Somebody’ll call the cops and we’ll all be in a jam.”
David and Beefy led Hunt toward the door. The girls followed. But Sara found no will to leave. She moved, yet muscular progress seemed impeded by a wall of unfelt force. That was why she was last to reach the corridor, the last to reach the outer door. It was why, standing doubtfully at the door, she felt the tall lean man immediately behind her, his awful eyes upon her. She felt a touch, ice cold, upon her She felt a touch, ice cold, upon her wrist. When she glanced down, she saw his hand.
PIERRE DE CAMP D’AVESNES chuckled with satisfaction as he boarded the last train in the Reading’s Market Street sheds. He still saw Hardt’s frown; Grillot’s red face and disbelieving eyes; and he still heard Han- ling’s irritated snort of contempt which he knew was only a cover for his defeat.
He could have filled the bill for Guy de Maupassant’s Joseph de Bardon. For he had wit without much depth, a general knowledge without real learning, and quick perception without serious penetration. These three qualities he had exhibited with considerable shrewdness that night, to the discomfort of some of the others.
Oh, he had led up to the subject casually enough. The argument about the spirit world had reached the point where Grillot was knocking holes in the various planes that, Manning Trent suggested, lie beyond this life. Pierre extracted a crumpled envelope from his pocket and, pencil in hand, drew upon it. Me did it quite obviously but the effect was that of a cat watching a mouse hole, and finally Mouse Hanling stuck his head out.
“What's that?” he demanded, leaning forward.
“This?” Pierre's round fleshy face attained such dignity as it could. “It’s a one-dimensional world.”
“All I see’s a straight line.” Hanling snorted.
The others looked too.
“That,” said Pierre, “is because you lack imagination.”
“You wouldn’t mean.” inquired Trent, “that it’s one of the three dimensions humans perceive?”
“Exactly,” said Pierre. “Length.”
“Trash!” exploded Grillot. “That’s as abstract as a four-dimensional world. You can’t have one human dimension without the other two.”
Pierre inclined his thick neck.
“Certainly. That’s why I say Hanling has no imagination. But, see here. I’ll put a man down here—a one-dimensional man. Let's call him X. His knowledge, his power, are limited to that one dimension, this straight line. It’s his only world and it runs in both directions to infinity. He can travel upon it, forward or backward.
“Now, let's say he’s traveling forward. He meets with a two-dimension rock-slide. It had length, but it also has height. How’ll he surmount this rock slide so he can continue his journey?”
Hanling pursed his lips.
“Go around?”
“There's nothing to go around,” said Pierre.
“Well, dammit, let him climb over, then.” Pierre’s smile revealed his irregular teeth. “Impossible. You forget, he’s a one-dimensional creature and hasn’t the power to leave his one-dimensional world, which he’d have to do if he climbed over. The result is, you have to accept this fact: this obstacle of two dimensions is, to him. a mystery. It is a fence between his own world and some other world he can’t penetrate and can but dimly comprehend.”
Grillot frowned. He grunted:
“I see that. It's sense.’’
Pierre looked at Trent, whose eyes showed he thought he knew what was coming. Pierre
said:
“So let’s follow up and see where we get. We'll place a two-dimensional creature in this one-dimensional world. We’ll call him Y. He travels along the line, comes to the two-dimensional rock-slide and he .climbs over. Now if you were in X's shoes, wouldn't that appear to be a miracle?”
Hanling
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