ircle?"

"I am indeed, in a certain sense a Circle," replied the Voice, "and a
more perfect Circle than any in Flatland; but to speak more accurately,
I am many Circles in one." Then he added more mildly, "I have a
message, dear Madam, to your husband, which I must not deliver in your
presence; and, if you would suffer us to retire for a few minutes--"
But my wife would not listen to the proposal that our august Visitor
should so incommode himself, and assuring the Circle that the hour of
her own retirement had long passed, with many reiterated apologies for
her recent indiscretion, she at last retreated to her apartment.

I glanced at the half-hour glass. The last sands had fallen. The
third Millennium had begun.

Footnote 3. When I say "sitting," of course I do not mean any change
of attitude such as you in Spaceland signify by that word; for as we
have no feet, we can no more "sit" nor "stand" (in your sense of the
word) than one of your soles or flounders.

Nevertheless, we perfectly well recognize the different mental states
of volition implied by "lying," "sitting," and "standing," which are to
some extent indicated to a beholder by a slight increase of lustre
corresponding to the increase of volition.

But on this, and a thousand other kindred subjects, time forbids me to
dwell.

SECTION 16 How the Stranger vainly endeavoured to reveal to me
in words the mysteries of Spaceland

As soon as the sound of the Peace-cry of my departing Wife had died
away, I began to approach the Stranger with the intention of taking a
nearer view and of bidding him be seated: but his appearance struck me
dumb and motionless with astonishment. Without the slightest symptoms
of angularity he nevertheless varied every instant with graduations of
size and brightness scarcely possible for any Figure within the scope
of my experience. The thought flashed across me that I might have
before me a burglar or cut-throat, some monstrous Irregular Isosceles,
who, by feigning the voice of a Circle, had obtained admission somehow
into the house, and was now preparing to stab me with his acute angle.

In a sitting-room, the absence of Fog (and the season happened to be
remarkably dry), made it difficult for me to trust to Sight
Recognition, especially at the short distance at which I was standing.
Desperate with fear, I rushed forward with an unceremonious, "You must
permit me, Sir--" and felt him. My Wife was