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Abbott, Edwin Abbott, 1838-1926

"Flatland: a romance of many dimensions (Illustrated)"

There was not the trace of an angle,
not the slightest roughness or inequality: never in my life had I met
with a more perfect Circle. He remained motionless while I walked
round him, beginning from his eye and returning to it again.
Circular he was throughout, a perfectly satisfactory Circle;
there could not be a doubt of it. Then followed a dialogue,
which I will endeavour to set down as near as I can recollect it,
omitting only some of my profuse apologies -- for I was covered
with shame and humiliation that I, a Square, should have been guilty
of the impertinence of feeling a Circle. It was commenced
by the Stranger with some impatience at the lengthiness
of my introductory process.
STRANGER. Have you felt me enough by this time? Are you not
introduced to me yet?
I. Most illustrious Sir, excuse my awkwardness, which arises not
from ignorance of the usages of polite society, but from a little
surprise and nervousness, consequent on this somewhat
unexpected visit. And I beseech you to reveal my indiscretion
to no one, and especially not to my Wife. But before your Lordship
enters into further communications, would he deign to satisfy
the curiosity of one who would gladly know whence his Visitor came?
STRANGER.


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