It was clear to him now that he had inadvertently stumbled upon the center of the universe. It was rather odd that geographers had neglected to point out so significant a feature. To the north lay the North, to the south lay the South, to the east the East, to the west the West. Start in any direction, continue in a straight line, and one would come back here. It was a demonstrable fact. He had no doubt that even if one pursued a circuitous and zigzag path, the result would be the same. One could no more escape it than can the compass the magnetic north. Had he himself not reached this point over that devious winding course which started at his cradle?
He heard her footsteps and charged his guns with another fact.
“Do you know,” he announced as she approached the library door on her way back upstairs, “do you know that Alaska is approximately as large as all the United States east of the Mississippi river, if we subtract the areas of Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Mississippi, North Carolina, and West Virginia?”
“Really?” she observed again.
“I suppose,” he reflected, “that if you subtracted some more, it would then be twice as large as something else.”
“I suppose they wish to make it look as large as they can,” she remarked.
“You can see it on the map,” he urged.
He crossed the room to the atlas and she had nothing to do again but follow.
“All that pink space,” he announced as grandly as though he owned it.
“How interesting,” she murmured.