When I went into the room full of his supporters I expected to be received with a roar of laughter, or (if they were too far gone) with a roar of indignation at the insult.

I cannot describe the surprise I felt when my entrance was received with a respectful silence, followed (when I had first opened my lips) with a murmur of admiration.

The curse of the perfect artist had fallen upon me.

I had been too subtle, I had been too true.

They thought I really was the great Nihilist Professor.