> Newton, aged 38, comes in from the garden, hatless, deep in
calculation, his fists clenched, tapping his knuckles together to
tick off the stages of the equation. He stumbles over the mat.
MRS BASHAM. Oh, do look where youre going, Mr Newton. Someday
youll walk into the river and drown yourself. I thought you were
out at the university.
NEWTON. Now dont scold, Mrs Basham, dont scold. I forgot to go
out. I thought of a way of making a calculation that has been
puzzling me.
MRS BASHAM. And you have been sitting out there forgetting