Eager to hear the promised tale, his four companions forgot all about their raging controversy. Blessèd curiosity! Thou art not only the soul of civilization; thou art the apple of concord, a divine fruit that tastes quite different from the apple of mythology. The room, until then buzzing with physics and metaphysics, is now a becalmed sea; all eyes are on Jacobina, who trims his cigar while collecting his thoughts. Here’s how he began: