om it; in no other way could
he feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in
empty places and vast solitudes, for each one is a little Faceny."

"That rings true," said Maskull.

"Thoughts flow perpetually from Faceny's face backward. Since his face
is on all sides, however, they flow into his interior. A draught of
thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of
Faceny, which is the world. The thoughts become shapes, and people the
world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not
outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like
a gigantic stomach, and the real outside of the world we shall never
see."

Maskull pondered deeply for a while.

"Leehallfae, I fail to see what you personally have to hope for, since
you are nothing more than a discarded, dying thought."

"Have you never loved a woman?" asked the phaen, regarding him fixedly.

"Perhaps I have."

"When you loved, did you have no high moments?"

"That's asking the same question in other words."

"In those moments you were approaching Faceny. If you could have drawn
nearer still, would you not have done so?"

"I would, regardless of the consequences."

"Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?"

"But I would have that to hope for."

Leehallfae walked on in silence.

"A man is the half of Life," ae broke out suddenly. "A woman is the
other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life. Moreover, when
life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped out of
it--something that belongs only to the whole. Between your love and mine
there is no comparison. If even your sluggish blood is drawn to Faceny,
without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you suppose it is
with me?"

"I don't question the genuineness of your passion," replied Maskull,
"but it's a pity you can't see your way to carry it forward into the
next world."

Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion.
"Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see the
world only as it really is."

That ended the conversation.

The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the
head of the ravine. Its walls had still further closed in and, except
at those moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode
along all the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot
and relaxing. All life had ceased.