THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON
myself. He mingled very little with professional scientific men.
"So much pettiness," he explained, "so much intrigue! And really when one has an idea—a novel, fertilising idea—I don't wish to be uncharitable, but———"
I am a man who believes in impulses. I made what was perhaps a rash proposition. But you must remember that I had been alone, playwriting in Lympne for fourteen days, and my compunction for his ruined walk still hung about me. "Why not," said I, "make this your new habit? In the place of the one I spoilt. At least—until we can settle about the bungalow. What you want is to turn over your work in your mind. That you have always done during your afternoon walk. Unfortunately that's over—you can't get things back as they were. But why not come and talk about your work to me—use me as a sort of wall against which you may throw your thoughts and catch them again. It's certain I don't know enough to steal your ideas myself, and I know no scientific men. . . ."
I stopped. He was considering. Evidently the thing attracted him. "But I'm afraid I should bore you," he said.
"You think I'm too dull?"
"Oh no, but technicalities———"
"Anyhow you've interested me immensely this afternoon."
"Of course, it would be a great help to me. Nothing clears up one's ideas so much as explaining them. Hitherto———"
14
