hink?"

"We mustn't be impatient," Dr. Quink said. "These things come slowly,
they take time, if you'll pardon the expression. But of course, it's
impudent of _me_ to lecture _you_ on temporal effects."

"Not at all, not at all, I assure you. I am no expert on the time
continuum, no expert in the slightest. I daresay I don't understand the
most basic principles behind it, just as you aren't required to
understand electromagnetic theory in order to flick on the electric
light. In fact, I believe it wasn't even necessary for Edison to
understand it in order to invent the damned thing."

"You know about Edison then?"

"Oh, certainly. I've studied up quite a bit on this section of our
history."

"You're sure," Dr. Quink went on, "that you simply didn't learn about
Edison in grammar school?"

"Quite. Oh, yes, quite. No offense meant, sir, but you must certainly
realize that between my time and this there have been a great many
discoveries in the manifold fields embraced by science, so that people
who in your own time were famous to schoolchildren are now, then, that
is,--oh, I hope you know what I mean--known only to scholars of the
period involved. In the time to which I belong the schoolchildren may
know of Newton, Einstein and Fisher, but of such lesser luminaries as
Edison, or even Avogadro or Galdeen, they are quite ignorant."

"Galdeen?"

"Yes, Galdeen. Surely you know of Galdeen. Perhaps I'm mispronouncing
it. Oh, damn. I'm actually rather proud of my knowledge of your
histories, I hate to be tripped up on something like this. Galineed,
perhaps?"

"Well, it's not worth bothering about."

"Damned annoying, just the same. It's on the tip of my tongue. Galeel?"

"Would you mind very much if we went on to some other subject? I don't
think we're gaining much right here."

* * * * *

"You're the doctor, you know," Fairfield replied. "I was just explaining
how I knew about Edison, though I never attended grammar school in this
century. So, then, where were we? You asked me to tell you about myself,
didn't you? You know, I'd much rather you told me about yourself."
Fairfield suddenly sat upright on the couch, drew his legs up to his
chest, crossed his ankles, and hugged his knees. "I was noticing that
picture you have hanging on the wall," he said. "The sea, la mer, das
Weltmeer, te misralub, et cetera. The roaring, crashing waves, the
bubbling, foaming spray. The deep dank myst