quite elegant, virtual exercises in three-dimensional geometry.’ Seeing interest
kindle in her, he added, ‘I studied mathematics in boyhood; my father, before he
died, wanted me to have a gentleman’s education. The main part has rusted away
in me, but I remember useful or picturesque details.’
‘Well, give us a show, come luncheon time,’ Jamie proposed.
Cappen did, when they halted. That was on a hillside above the White Foal River.
It wound gleaming through farmlands whose intense green denied that desert
lurked on the rim of sight. The noonday sun baked strong odours out of the
earth: humus, resin, juice of wild plants. A solitary plane tree graciously gave
shade. Bees hummed.
After the meal, and after Danlis had scrambled off to get a closer look at a
kind of lizard new to her, Cappen demonstrated his skill. She was especially
taken – enchanted – by his geometric artifices. Like any Rankan lady, she
carried a sewing kit in her gear; and being herself, she had writing materials
along. Thus he could apply scissors and thread to paper. He showed how a single
ring may be cut to produce two. that are interlocked, and how a strip may be
twisted to have but one surface and one edge, and whatever else he knew. Jamie
watched with pleasure, if with less enthusiasm.
Observing how delight made her glow, Cappen was inspired to carry on the latest
poem he was composing for her. It had been slower work than usual. He had the
conceit, the motif, a comparison of her to the dawn, but hitherto only the first
few lines had emerged, and no proper structure. In this moment –