"It's no exaggeration to say that for the greater part of my life I've wanted to come across a pupil of Professor Hopper. I've sat under him and over him on various faculties; we even went to Cambridge together — it disgusted both of us. And now at last I have the chance, and now you are going to learn the truth about physics.""Go on with your lecture," I muttered skeptically.He looked at me glassily. "I am going on with my lecture," he said. "Listen closely. Take a circle. What is a circle?""You tell me," I said."A circle is a closed arc. A circle is composed of an infinite number of straight lines, each with a length of zero, each at an angle infinitesmally small to its adjacent straight lines.""I should be the last to dispute the point," I said judiciously. He reached for the decanter and missed. He reached again grimly, his fist opening and closing, and finally snapping shut on its neck. Will you join me once more?" he asked graciously."Granted," I said absently, wondering what was going around in my head."Now — one point which we must get quite clear in the beginning is that all circles are composed of an in—""You said that already," I interrupted."Did I?" he asked with a delighted smile.
