Syme waited for him as St.
George waited for the dragon, as a man waits for a final explanation or for death.

And the old Professor came right up to him and passed him like a total stranger, without even a blink of his mournful eyelids.
There was something in this silent and unexpected innocence that left Syme in a final fury.

The man's colourless face and manner seemed to assert that the whole following had been an accident.

Syme was galvanised with an energy that was something between bitterness and a burst of boyish derision.

He made a wild gesture as if to knock the old man's hat off, called out something like "Catch me if you can," and went racing away across the white, open Circus.