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"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.

"Exactly. It can't attain all its desires at once. And now you can see how immeasurably superior are the phaens, who spring spontaneously from the more electric and vigorous sparks." "But where does the matter come from that imprisons these sparks?" "When life dies, it becomes matter. Matter itself dies, but its place is constantly taken by new matter."

"This seems to me a terrible valley, in which anything may happen." "Don't torment yourself about Digrung. The valleys belong by right to the phaens the men here are interlopers. It is a good work to remove them." Maskull continued thoughtful. "I say no more, but I see I will have to be cautious. What did you mean about my helping you with my luck?"

I have scoured the valleys and the hills. I have been to the very gates of Lichstorm. I am old, so that your aged men would appear newborn infants beside me, but I am as far from Threal as when I was a green youth, dwelling among a throng of fellow 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.

"Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world was peopled by 'phaens. I think I am the only survivor of all those beings who were then passing through Faceny's mind." "Faceny?" "Who is now miscalled Shaping or Crystalman. The superficial names invented by a race of superficial creatures." "What's your own name?" "Leehallfae." "What?" "Leehallfae. And yours is Maskull.

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.