“You like him,” Paul said to her one night as they ascended the staircase to Tesla’s room. He’d just arrived and his cheeks were still red from the cold. Her quarrel with W. H. Foster still loomed over them, but Paul had already decided that another letter would not do the trick. He would have to come up with something better. “It surprises you that I like Tesla?” “He doesn’t seem of a piece with most of your circle.” “I’ve spent a lot of time performing. On the stage, for money, and off the stage, for respect. He’s never done so a day in his life. It would never even occur to him. He cares
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