“No, frankly, I can’t. I’ve tried, but I’m fundamentally incapable.”
Roberts’ great fighting face flashed about.
“You’ve tried—how?”
Randall hesitated, and once again the color mounted his cheek.
“I do my work here in the department the best I can, creditably, I think; but still there isn’t much to look forward to, nothing adequate.”
“And that’s as far as you’ve tried?”
“Yes; I have no other training.”
Roberts looked at him, merely looked. 210
“No other training!... You fancy this little university, this little bounded, contracted circle, is the world? You’ve tried! Let me see your hands.”
Higher and higher mounted the tell-tale color; obedient as a schoolboy Randall obeyed. Something compelled.