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 mechanically, his singular eyes wandering from Mr Hinchcliff to the bag with its ostentatiously displayed cap, and back to Mr Hinch cliff's downy face.

'You're so abrupt, you know,' apologised Mr Hinchcliff.

'Why shouldn't I?' said the stranger, following his thoughts. 'You are a student?' he said, addressing Mr Hinchcliff.

'I am—by Correspondence—of the London University said Mr Hinchcliff, with irrepressible pride, and feeling nervously at his tie.

'In pursuit of knowledge,' said the stranger, and suddenly took his feet oft the seat, put his fist on his knees, and stared at Mr Hinchcliff as though he had never seen a student before. 'Yes,' he said, and flung out an index finger. Then he rose, took a bag from the hat-rack, and unlocked it. Quite silently he drew out something round and wrapped in a quantity of silverpaper, and unfolded this carefully. He held it out towards Mr Hinchcliff—a small, very smooth, golden-yellow fruit.

Mr Hinchcliff's eyes and mouth were open. He did not offer to take this object—if he was intended to take it.

'That,' said this fantastic stranger, speaking very slowly, 'is the Apple of the Tree of Knowledge. Look at it—small, and bright, and wonderful—Knowledge—and I am going to give it to you.'

Mr Hinchcliff's mind worked painfully for a minute, and then the sufficient explanation, 'Mad!' flashed across his brain, and illuminated the whole situation, One humoured madmen. He put his head a little on one side.

'The Apple of the Tree of Knowledge, eh!' said Mr Hinchcliff, regarding it with a finely assumed air of interest, and then looking at the interlocutor. 'But