At midnight, when Teargeld was in the south, his shadow
straight toward the sea and making nearly as as day,
he saw a great tree in the water, not out. It was thirty
feet out of the water, upright, and alive, and its must have been
enormously and wide. It was along the coast, through the
heavy seas. Maskull it for a minutes. Then it
dawned on him that it might be a good thing to its nature.
Without stopping to the danger, he out, caught
hold of the branch, and himself up.
He looked and saw that the main was thick to the very top,
terminating in a that a head. He his
way toward this knob, through the of boughs, which were
covered with tough, slippery, leaves, like seaweed. Arriving at
the crown, he that it actually was a of head, for there were
membranes like all the way around it, some
form of low intelligence.
At that moment the tree touched bottom, though some way from the shore,
and to heavily. To himself, Maskull put his hand out,
and, in doing so, some of the membranes. The tree
sheered off the land, as if by an act of will. When it was again,
Maskull his hand; they at once to shore. He thought
a bit, and then started with the membranes. It was
as he had guessed—these were by the light of the moon,
and way the light came from, the tree would travel.
A Maskull’s as it him that it
might be possible to this plant-animal as as
Matterplay. He no time in the into execution.
Tearing off some of the long, leaves, he up all the
membranes the ones that the north. The tree left
the island, and definitely put out to sea. It north. It
was not moving at more than a mile an hour, however, while Matterplay
was possibly miles distant.
The great against the with thuds; the
breaking through the branches—Maskull rested high and
dry, but was more than a little about their slow of
progress. Presently he a along toward the north-
west, and that put another idea into his head. He to with
the again, and long had succeeded in his tree
into the fast-running stream. As soon as they were in its rapids,
he the entirely, and the in
the of road and steed.
Maskull himself secure among the and slept for the
remainder of the night.
When his opened again, the was out of sight. Teargeld was
setting in the western sea. The sky in the east was with the
colours of the day. The air was and fresh; the light
over the sea was beautiful, gleaming, and mysterious. Land—probably
Matterplay—lay ahead, a long, dark line of low cliffs, a mile
away. The no longer ran toward the shore, but to skirt the
coast without any closer to it. As soon as Maskull the
fact, he the tree out of its and started it
inshore. The sky up with dyes, and the
outer of Branchspell itself above the sea. The moon had
already sunk.
The nearer and nearer. In physical it was like
Swaylone’s Island—the same wide sands, small cliffs, and rounded,
insignificant inland, without vegetation. In the early-morning
sunlight, however, it looked romantic. Maskull, hollow-eyed and morose,
cared nothing for all that, but the moment the tree grounded, clambered
swiftly through the and into the sea. By the time
he had ashore, the white, sun was high above the
horizon.
He walked along the toward the east for a distance,
without having any special in his mind. He he would go
on until he came to some or valley, and then turn up it. The sun’s
rays were cheering, and to him of his night
weight. After along the beach for about a mile, he was stopped
by a that into the sea out of a of natural
gateway in the line of cliffs. Its water was of a beautiful, limpid
green, all with bubbles. So ice-cold, aerated, and did
it look that he himself on the ground and took a
prolonged draught. When he got up again his started to play
pranks—they alternately and clear.... It may have been
pure imagination, but he that Digrung was moving him.
He the bank of the through the in the cliffs, and
then for the time saw the Matterplay. A appeared, like
a by rock. All the hill country was and
lifeless, but this in the of it was extremely
fertile; he had such fertility. It up among the hills,
and all that he was looking at was its end. The of the
valley was about a mile wide; the that ran its middle
was nearly a hundred across, but was shallow—in most
places not more than a deep. The of the were
about seventy high, but very sloping; they were from top to
bottom with little, bright-leaved trees—not of of one
colour, like Earth trees, but of colours, most of which
were and positive.
The itself was like a magician’s garden. Densely trees,
shrubs, and parasitical for of it.
The were and grotesque, and each one different; the
colours of leaf, flower, sexual organs, and were equally
peculiar—all the different of the five of
Tormance to be represented, and the result, for Maskull was a
sort of chaos. So rank was the that he not fight
his way through it; he was to take to the riverbed. The contact
of the water an odd his body, like
a mild electric shock. There were no birds, but a extraordinary-
looking of small size the from hill
to hill. Swarms of around him, threatening
mischief, but in the end it out that his blood was disagreeable
to them, for he was not once. Repulsive creatures
resembling centipedes, scorpions, snakes, and so were in myriads
on the banks of the stream, but they also no attempt to use their
weapons on his and feet, as he passed through them into the
water.... Presently however, he was in by a hideous
monster, of the size of a pony, but in shape—if it resembled
anything—a sea crustacean; and then he came to a halt. They at
one another, the with eyes, Maskull with and wary
ones. While he was staring, a thing to him.
His again. But when in a minute or two this passed
away and he saw once more, his had in character.
He was looking right through the animal’s and all
its parts. The crust, however, and all the hard tissues
were and semi-transparent; through them a network of
blood-red and out in distinctness. The
hard parts away to nothingness, and the blood alone was
left. Not the remained. The blood alone was
visible, this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the
shape of the monster. Then this blood to too. Instead of a
continuous liquid stream, Maskull that it was of a
million points. The red colour had been an by
the motion of the points; he now saw that they resembled
minute in their brightness. They like a double
drift of stars, through space. One was toward
a point in the centre, while the other was moving away from it. He
recognised the as the of the beast, the as the
arteries, and the point as the heart.
While he was still looking, in amazement, the network went
out like an flame. Where the had stood,
there was nothing. Yet through this “nothing” he not see the
landscape. Something was there that the light,
though it neither shape, colour, substance. And now the
object, which no longer be by vision, to be felt
by emotion. A delightful, of sap, of quickening
pulses of love, adventure, mystery, beauty, femininity—took possession
of his being, and, enough, he it with the monster.
Why that should him to young, sexual, and
audacious, he did not ask himself, for he was with the
effect. But it was as if flesh, bones, and blood had been discarded, and
he were to with Life itself, which slowly passed into
his own body.
The died away. There was a interval, and then the
streaming, rose up again out of space. It to
the red-blood system. The hard parts of the reappeared, with more
and more distinctness, and at the same time the network of blood grew
fainter. Presently the parts were by the
crust—the opposite Maskull in its old formidable
ugliness, hard, painted, and concrete.
Disliking something about him, the and stumbled
awkwardly away on its six legs, with and movements,
toward the other bank of the stream.
Maskull’s left him after this adventure. He and
thoughtful. He that he was to see through
Digrung’s eyes, and that there were ahead.
The next time his started to blur, he it with his will,
and nothing happened.
The with many toward the hills. It narrowed
considerably, and the on either and
higher. The to about twenty across, but it was
deeper—it was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric
sensations by its water more pronounced, almost
disagreeably so; but there was else to walk. With its deafening
confusion of from the of creatures, the little
valley a of Nature. The life was still
more than before; every square of space was a of
struggling wills, animal and vegetable. For a it would
have been paradise, for no two were alike, and all were
fantastic, with character.
It looked as if life were being so fast by Nature that
there was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on
Earth, where a hundred are in order that one may be
sown. Here the to survive, while, to find
accommodation for them, the old ones perished; he looked they
were and dying, without any cause—they were simply
being killed by new life.
Other so wildly, in of his very eyes, that they
became of different “kingdoms” altogether. For example, a fruit was
lying on the ground, of the size and shape of a lemon, but with a
tougher skin. He it up, to eat the pulp; but
inside it was a tree, just on the point of bursting
its shell. Maskull it away upstream. It toward him;
by the time he was with it, its motion had stopped and it
was against the current. He it out and that
it had six legs.
Maskull sang no paeans of in of the overcrowded
valley. On the contrary, he and depressed. He
thought that the power—whether it was called Nature, Life, Will,
or God—that was so to and this small,
vulgar, world, not very high and was not
worth much. How this for an hour or two of physical
existence be as a and important
business was his The him, he
longed for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the of the
ravine, he to climb the cliff, his way up
from tree to tree.
When he at the top, Branchspell on him with such
brutal, white that he saw that there was no there. He
looked around, to what part of the country he had come to. He
had about ten miles from the sea, as the flies. The bare,
undulating toward it; the water in
the distance; and on the he was just able to make out Swaylone’s
Island. Looking north, the land as as he
could see. Over the crest—that is to say, some miles away—a line of
black, fantastic-shaped of another showed
themselves; this was Threal. Behind these again, against the
sky, fifty or a hundred miles off, were the of
Lichstorm, most of them with that in the
sunlight.
They were high and of contours. Most of them were
conical to the top, but from the top, great of balanced
themselves at what looked like angles—overhanging without
apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought:
extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there,
and to travel as as possible, it might be to get
there sunset. It was less the themselves that attracted
him than the country which beyond—the of setting on
the sun, which he to be the wonder of in Tormance.
The direct was over the hills, but that was out of the question,
because of the killing and the of shade. He guessed,
however, that the would not take him out of his way, and
decided to keep to that for the time being, much as he and feared
it. Into the of life, therefore, he once more himself.
Once down, he to the of the for several
miles through and shadow. The path increasingly
difficult. The closed in on either until they were less than
a hundred yards apart, while the of the was by
boulders, great and small, so that the little stream, which was now
diminished to the of a brook, had to come where and how
it could. The of life stranger. Pure plants and pure animals
disappeared by degrees, and their place was by creatures
that to of characters. They had limbs, faces, will,
and intelligence, but they for the part of their time
rooted in the ground by preference, and they only on and air.
Maskull saw no sexual organs and failed to how the came
into existence.
Then he an sight. A large and developed
plant-animal appeared in of him, out of empty space. He
could not his eyes, but at the for a long time
in amazement. It on moving and him, as
thought it had been there all its life. Giving up the puzzle, Maskull
resumed his from to up the gorge, and then, quietly
and without warning, the same again. No longer could
he that he was miracles—that Nature was its
shapes into the world without making use of the medium of parentage....
No of the problem presented itself.
The too had in character. A came up
from its green water, like some into the air.
He had not walked in it for some time; now he did so, to test its
quality. He new life entering his body, from his upward; it
resembled a slowly moving cordial, than heat. The sensation
was new in his experience, yet he by what it was.
The energy by the was his neither as friend
nor but it to be the direct road to its
objective elsewhere. But, although it had no intentions, it was
likely to prove a traveller—he was that its
passage through his to about some physical
transformation, unless he do something to prevent it. Leaping
quickly out of the water, he against a rock, his
muscles, and himself against the change. At that very
moment the again his sight, and, while he was guarding
against that, his out into a of new eyes. He
put his hand up and six, in to his old ones.
The was past and Maskull laughed, himself on
having got off so easily. Then he what the new organs were
for—whether they were a good or a thing. He had not taken a dozen
steps up the he out. Just as he was in the act of
jumping from the top of a boulder, his and he came
to an standstill. He was two worlds simultaneously.
With his own he saw the as before, with its rocks, brook,
plant-animals, sunshine, and shadows. But with his he saw
differently. All the of the were visible, but the light
seemed down, and appeared faint, hard, and uncoloured.
The sun was by of cloud which the whole sky. This
vapour was in and almost motion. It was thick in
extension, but thin in texture; some parts, however, were denser
than others, as the were together or by
the motion. The green from the brook, when closely watched, could
be individually, each one up toward the clouds,
but the moment they got them a to begin.
The to through to the upper air, while the
clouds around it way it darted, trying to create
so a prison that movement would be impossible. As as
Maskull detect, most of the succeeded in finding
their way out after efforts; but one that he was looking at was
caught, and what was this. A complete ring of cloud surrounded
it, and, in of its and in all directions—as
if it were a live, in a net—nowhere it find
an opening, but it the cloud with it, wherever
it went. The to around it, until they
resembled the black, heavy, sky a bad
thunderstorm. Then the green spark, which was still visible in the
interior, its efforts, and for a time quiescent.
The cloud shape on itself, and nearly
spherical; as it and stiller, it started slowly to descend
toward the floor. When it was directly opposite Maskull, with its
lower end only a off the ground, its motion stopped altogether
and there was a complete pause for at least two minutes. Suddenly, like
a of lightning, the great cloud together, small,
indented, and coloured, and as a plant-animal started walking around on
legs and up the ground in search of food. The stage
of the he with his normal eyesight. It him
the creature’s appearing out of nowhere.
Maskull was shaken. His from him and gave place to
curiosity and awe. “That was like the birth of a thought,” he
said to himself, “but who was the thinker? Some great Living Mind is at
work in this spot. He has intelligence, for all his are
different, and he has character, for all to the same general
type.... If I’m not wrong, and if it’s the called Shaping or
Crystalman, I’ve to make me want to out something more
about him.... It would be to go on to other I
have solved these.”
A voice called out to him from behind, and, around, he saw a
human toward him from some the ravine. It
looked more like a man than a woman. He was tall, but nimble, and
was in a dark, that from the to
below the knees. Around his was rolled a turban. Maskull waited for
him, and when he was nearer a little way to meet him.
Then he another surprise, for this person, although clearly
a being, was neither man woman, anything the two,
but was of a third positive sex, which was to
behold and difficult to understand. In order to into the
sexual produced in Maskull’s mind by the stranger’s physical
aspect, it is necessary to coin a new pronoun, for none in use
would be applicable. Instead of “he,” “she,” or “it,” therefore “ae”
will be used.
He himself of at why the bodily
peculiarities of this being should him as from sex, and
not from race, and yet there was no about the itself. Body,
face, and were neither male female, but something
quite different. Just as one can a man from a woman at the
first by some of and
atmospheres from the of the figure, so the
stranger was in from both. As with men and women,
the whole person a sensuality, which gave and face
alike their character.... Maskull that it was love—but
what love—love for whom? It was neither the shame-carrying of a
male, the deep-rooted of a female to her destiny. It
was as and as these, but different.
As he into those strange, eyes, he had an
intuitive that lover was no other than Shaping himself. It
came to him that the design of this love was not the of the
race but the on earth of the individual. No children were
produced by the act; the lover was the child. Further,
ae like a man, but like a woman. All these were
dimly and by this being, who seemed
to have out of another age, when was different.
Of all the Maskull had so met in Tormance, this
one him as the most foreign—that is, the farthest
removed from him in structure. If they were to live together
for a hundred years, they be companions.
Maskull himself out of his and, viewing
the in detail, with his to account
for the told him by his intuitions. Ae broad
shoulders and big bones, and was without female breasts, and so ae
resembled a man. But the were so and that flesh
presented something of the of a crystal, having plane surfaces
in place of curves. The looked as if it had not been ground by
the sea of into and but had sprung
together in and as the result of a single, idea.
The too was and irregular. With his prejudices,
Maskull little in it, yet there was, though neither
of a of a type, for it had the three essentials
of beauty: character, intelligence, and repose. The skin was copper-
coloured and luminous, as if from within. The was
beardless, but the of the was as long as a woman’s, and,
dressed in a single plait, as as the ankles. Ae
possessed only two eyes. That part of the which across the
forehead so in that it some
organ.
Maskull it to age. The appeared
active, vigorous, and healthy, the skin was clear and glowing; the eyes
were powerful and alert—ae might well be in early youth. Nevertheless,
the longer Maskull gazed, the more an of unbelievable
ancientness came upon him—aer as away as the view
observed through a telescope.
At last he the stranger, though it was just as if he were
conversing with a dream. “To what do you belong?” he asked.
The voice in which the reply came was neither womanly, but was
oddly of a horn, from a great distance.
“Nowadays there are men and women, but in the times the world was
peopled by ‘phaens.’ I think I am the only of all those beings
who were then through Faceny’s mind.”
“Faceny?”
“Who is now Shaping or Crystalman. The names
invented by a of creatures.”
“What’s your own name?”
“Leehallfae.”
“What?”
“Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull. I read in your mind that you have
just come through some adventures. You to possess
extraordinary luck. If it lasts long enough, I can make use of
it.”
“Do you think that my luck for your benefit?... But mind
that now. It is your _sex_ that me. How do you satisfy your
desires?”
Leehallfae pointed to the organ on her brow. “With that I
gather life from the that in all the hundred Matterplay
valleys. The direct from Faceny. My whole life has been
spent trying to Faceny himself. I’ve so long that if I were
to the number of years you would I lied.”
Maskull looked at the phaen slowly. “In Ifdawn I met someone else from
Matterplay—a man called Digrung. I him.”
“You can’t be telling me this out of vanity.”
“It was a crime. What will come of it?”
Leehallfae gave a curious, smile. “In Matterplay he will stir
inside you, for he the air. Already you have his eyes.... I knew
him.... Take of yourself, or something more may happen.
Keep out of the water.”
“This to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen.”
“Don’t about Digrung. The by right to
the phaens—the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to remove
them.”
Maskull thoughtful. “I say no more, but I see I will have to
be cautious. What did you about my helping you with my luck?”
“Your luck is fast weakening, but it may still be to serve
me. Together we will search for Threal.”
“Search for Threal—why, is it so hard to find?”
“I have told you that my whole life has been in the quest.”
“You said Faceny, Leehallfae.”
The phaen at him with queer, eyes, and again. “This
stream, Maskull, like every other life in Matterplay, has its
source in Faceny. But as all these issue out from Threal, it is
in Threal that we must look for Faceny.”
“But what’s to prevent your Threal? Surely it’s a well-known
country?”
“It underground. Its with the upper world are few,
and where they are, no one that I have spoken to knows. I have
scoured the and the hills. I have been to the very gates of
Lichstorm. I am old, so that your men would appear infants
beside me, but I am as from Threal as when I was a green youth,
dwelling among a of phaens.”
“Then, if my luck is good, yours is very bad.... But when you have found
Faceny, what do you gain?”
Leehallfae looked at him in silence. The from face, and
its place was taken by such a look of pain and that
Maskull had no need to press his question. Ae was by the grief
and of a lover from the loved one, the
scents and of person were always present. This passion
stamped at that moment with a wild, stern, spiritual
beauty, any of woman or man.
But the suddenly, and then the contrast
showed Maskull the Leehallfae. Aer was solitary, but
vulgar—it was like the of a nature, animal aims
with persistence.
He looked at the phaen askance, and his against his
thigh. “Well, we will go together. We may something, and in any
case I shan’t be sorry to with such a as
yourself.”
“But I should you, Maskull. You and I are of different creations. A
phaen’s the whole of life, a man’s only the
half of life—the other is in woman. Faceny may be too a
draught for your to endure.... Do you not this?”
“I am with my different feelings. I must take what I
can, and the rest.” He down, and, taking of the phaen’s
thin and robe, off a strip, which he to
swathe in around his forehead. “I’m not your advice,
Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and it
as Digrung.”
The phaen gave a grin, and they to move upstream. The road
was difficult. They had to from to boulder, and it
warm work. Occasionally a presented itself, which they
could only by climbing. There was no more for a
long time. Maskull, as as possible, his companion’s counsel
to avoid the water, but here and there he was to set in it.
The second or third time he did so, he a in his arm,
where it had been by Krag. His joyful; his fears
vanished; and he to the stream.
Leehallfae and him with screwed-up eyes, trying
to what had happened. “Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull,
or what is the matter?”
“Listen. You are a being of experience, and ought to know, if
anyone does. What is Muspel?”
The phaen’s was blank. “I don’t know the name.”
“It is another world of some sort.”
“That cannot be. There is only this one world—Faceny’s.”
Maskull came up to aer, arms, and to talk. “I’m I fell
in with you, Leehallfae, for this and with
it need a of explaining. For example, in this spot there are hardly
any left—why have they all disappeared? You call this
brook a ‘life stream,’ yet the nearer its we get, the less life
it produces. A mile or two we had those plant-
animals appearing out of nowhere, while right by the sea, plants
and animals were over one another. Now, if all this is
connected in some way or other with your Faceny, it to
me he must have a most nature. His doesn’t start
creating until it has and watered....
But of us are talking nonsense.”
Leehallfae head. “Everything together. The is
life, and it is off of life all the time. When these
sparks are and by matter, they shapes.
The nearer the is to its source, the more terrible and vigorous
is its life. You’ll see for when we the of the
valley that there are no there at all. That means that
there is no of to and the terrible
sparks that are to be there. Lower the stream, most of the
sparks are to to the upper air, but some are held
when they are a little way up, and these into shapes. I
myself am of this nature. Lower still, toward the sea, the stream
has a great part of its power and the are lazy and
sluggish. They spread out, than into the air. There is
hardly any of matter, delicate, that is of
capturing these sparks, and they are in multitudes—that
accounts for the you see there. But not only
that—the are passed from one to another by way of
generation, and can to being so until they are out
by decay. Lowest of all, you have the Sinking Sea itself. There the
degenerate and life of the Matterplay has for its body
the whole sea. So weak is it’s power that it can’t succeed in creating
any at all but you can see its ceaseless, to do
so, in those spouts.”
“So the slow of men and is to the of
the life in their case?”
“Exactly. It can’t all its at once. And now you can see
how are the phaens, who from
the more electric and sparks.”
“But where the come from that these sparks?”
“When life dies, it matter. Matter itself dies, but its place is
constantly taken by new matter.”
“But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?”
“Life is the of Faceny, and once these have left his
brain they are nothing—mere embers.”
“This is a philosophy,” said Maskull. “But who is Faceny
himself, then, and why he think at all?”
Leehallfae gave another smile. “That I’ll too. Faceny
is of this nature. He Nothingness in all directions. He has no
back and no sides, but is all face; and this is his shape. It must
necessarily be so, for nothing else can him and
Nothingness. His is all eyes, for he contemplates
Nothingness. He his from it; in no other way he
feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and men love to be in
empty places and solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny.”
“That true,” said Maskull.
“Thoughts from Faceny’s backward. Since his face
is on all sides, however, they into his interior. A of
thought thus from Nothingness to the of
Faceny, which is the world. The shapes, and people the
world. This world, therefore, which is all around us, is not
outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible is like
a stomach, and the of the world we shall never
see.”
Maskull for a while.
“Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to for, since
you are nothing more than a discarded, thought.”
“Have you loved a woman?” asked the phaen, him fixedly.
“Perhaps I have.”
“When you loved, did you have no high moments?”
“That’s the same question in other words.”
“In those moments you were Faceny. If you have drawn
nearer still, would you not have done so?”
“I would, of the consequences.”
“Even if you personally had nothing to for?”
“But I would have that to for.”
Leehallfae walked on in silence.
“A man is the of Life,” ae out suddenly. “A woman is the
other of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. Moreover, when
life into halves, something else has out of
it—something that only to the whole. Between your love and mine
there is no comparison. If your blood is to Faceny,
without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you it is
with me?”
“I don’t question the of your passion,” Maskull,
“but it’s a you can’t see your way to it into the
next world.”
Leehallfae gave a grin, what emotion.
“Men think what they like, but phaens are so that they can see the
world only as it is.”
That ended the conversation.
The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be the
head of the ravine. Its had still closed in and, at
those moments when Branchspell was directly them, they strode
along all the time in shade; but still it was and
relaxing. All life had ceased. A beautiful, was
presented by the faces, the ground, and the that
choked the entire of the gorge. They were of a snow-white
crystalline limestone, scored by of bright, blue.
The was no longer green, but a clear, crystal. Its
noise was musical, and it looked most and charming,
but Leehallfae to something else in it—aer grew
more and more set and tortured.
About an hour after all the other life had vanished, another
plant-animal was out of space, in of their eyes. It
was as tall as Maskull himself, and had a and vigorous
appearance, as a just out of Nature’s mint. It started
to walk about; but had it done so when it asunder.
Nothing of it—the whole into
the same from which it had sprung.
“That out what you said,” Maskull, pale.
“Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the region of terrible
life.”
“Then, since you’re right in this, I must all that you’ve been
telling me.”
As he the words, they were just a of the ravine.
There now up ahead a about three
hundred in height, of white, rock. It was the head
of the valley, and it they not proceed.
“In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now me your
luck.”
They walked up to the of the cliff, and Maskull looked at it
reflectively. It was possible to climb it, but the would be
difficult. The now from a in the only a few
feet up. Apart from its running, not a was to be heard.
The of the was in shadow, but about up the precipice
the sun was shining.
“What do you want me to do?” Maskull. “Everything is now in
your hands, and I have no to make. Now it’s your luck that
must help us.”
Maskull up a little while longer. “We had wait
till the afternoon, Leehallfae. I’ll have to climb to the top,
but it’s too at present—and besides, I’m tired. I’ll a few
hours’ sleep. After that, we’ll see.”
Leehallfae annoyed, but no opposition.
