“Now that you’ve explained it to me, I agree,” says the Philosopher. “The Issue isn’t that complicated. It must be your your innocence, your unpolluted mind that you understand everything so clearly. Many have come from afar to hear you. Talk to them.”
The Boy surveys the Crowd, “Strangers, all of them.”
Now the Boy is leaving.
“Why?” cries the Philosopher. “Don’t you want to talk to them?”
The Boy shrugs, “I do not talk to Strangers.”