I love you. Let me in.’ ‘No!’ she cried back across the door. Damn hormones, she thought to herself as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. ‘El! W...at can I say to make you open this door?’ ‘Nothing,’ she whispered back, ‘just leave me alone.’ ‘You’re crying.’ It was more of a statement than question. ‘And it’s your damn fault,’ she said, her voice breaking halfway through as she tried to contain a sob. She knew she was being ridiculous and getting upset over nothing, but that knowledge would not. People such as you and I used to be, in the academic life, enjoyed what we did, but how many unskilled and semi-skilled workers do you honestly think could truthfully claim to enjoy their work? Surely the pleasure in working is gained from exercising a skill of which you are proud? My present job is not one I enjoy particularly, though some of the trappings are pleasant, but I think I would not have missed anything significant if I had remained a mathematician at Oxford."He let her ponder this. More

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