until his loyalty was brought under question.
We're not gonna have a problem with your loyalty, are we?
EDWARD: "And yet, a certain word, a glance, a guise "Will mirror never show, reflecting not my gaze
"But my uncertain question caught "Inside a shadow of our shifting eyes?"
That really is quite elegant, Mr. Wilson. Good order. Very precise.
Feeling of the unknown. Fine poetry is the music of mathematics.
Numbers singing. You have to look behind the words to understand their meaning.
Right. Well, good night, gentlemen. Mr. Wilson?
May I see you in my office for a few words?
I'm recommending you as editor of our poetry magazine, The Poeticus.
I'm honored. Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me. Never be ashamed of your abilities, Edward.
Wasn't there a picture that used to sit on the mantel, there? It was a group of soldiers? It's my father's Crimean War regiment.
The glass broke. I'm having it mended.
I remembered it because it reminded me of my father. He was in the war.
I think we're being watched. Being watched? What do you mean? There's a man in a hat.
I don't see anybody. You know, there's so much I'd like to share with you, Edward.
But I hardly know anything about you at all, apart from you being a particularly bright student.
I feel that we have a kind of kindred spirit.
I really should be going. Oh, I've started to write something. Perhaps you'd like to hear it.
"A bud has burst on the upper bough "The linnet sang in my heart today
"I know where the pale green grasses show "By a tiny runnel, off the way
"And the earth is wet "A cuckoo said in my brain, 'Not yet, not yet'"
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