passage: Nathan read the package of words in silence , his only motions the steady progress of his eyes and occasional replacement of pages .
  Allan sat nervously across from him in a chair Nathan had probably upholstered himself , a patchwork design of fabric containing easily more stuffing than any other furniture item of the period .
  At long last , Nathan reached the end and set down his reading on the table between them .
  Allan leaned forward unconsciously .
  " It 's the best story you 've ever written . "
  Allan exhaled and leaned back into the chair , his face relaxing in imitation of his thoughts .
  " So , " he asked , " you do n't think it 's a waste of ink and paper , a futile expedition into morbidity or literary debauchery ? "
  " Heavens , no , " said Nathan , aghast .
  " This is one of the strongest works I 've read in ages .
  It speaks to the deepest storyteller 's instinct within us all , yet is entirely original .
  My dear friend , you have done it .
  Oh , they may rail against you at first ; they may decry you as a heathen or a literary savage ; but while those in power say such things , others will read your tales and see their true worth .
  Believe me when I say that you will be read a century from now . "
  Allan , though dubious as to that possibility , felt some temptation from the compliment ; mainly , it granted him the encouragement he still needed .
  Nathan promised to show the story to a printer he knew and Allan left it with him , then walked home under the spreading maples with a smile lingering on his face .
  He felt now that perhaps Nathan was right ; although the man was somewhat peculiar , he had both an unimpeachable honesty and a certain propensity for insight .
  Certainly , it was undeniable that the stories had an originality to them .
  His mind 's strangest fruit had ripened at last , and he found the taste less bitter than expected .
  These thoughts and others like them filled his head as he walked the long road home .
  It was evening , and the sky burned orange in the west when he neared home at last .
query_and_answer: Who wrote the story ? || Nathan
evidences: Nathan promised to show the story to a printer he knew and Allan left it with him , then walked home under the spreading maples with a smile lingering on his face . " It 's the best story you 've ever written . " " So , " he asked , " you do n't think it 's a waste of ink and paper , a futile expedition into morbidity or literary debauchery ? " " Heavens , no , " said Nathan , aghast .