“Now that we are alone in a strange place,” said Gleameil, averting her head, and looking down over the side of the raft into the water, “tell me what you thought of Polecrab.” Maskull paused before answering. “He seemed to me like a mountain wrapped in cloud. You see the lower buttresses, and think that is all. But then, high up, far above the clouds, you suddenly catch sight of more mountain—and even then it is not the top.” “You read character well, and have great perception,” remarked Gleameil quietly. “Now say what I am.” “In place of a human heart, you have a wild harp, and that’s all I know about you.” “What was that you said to my husband about two worlds?” “You heard.” “Yes, I heard. And I also am conscious of two worlds. My husband and boys are real to me, and I love them fondly. But there is another world for me, as there is for you, Maskull, and it makes my real world appear all false and vulgar.” “Perhaps we are seeking the same thing. But can it be right to satisfy our self-nature at the expense of other people?” “No, it’s not right. It is wrong, and base. But in that other world these words have no meaning.” There was a silence. “It’s useless to discuss such topics,” said Maskull. “The choice is now out of our hands, and we must go where we are taken. What I would rather speak about is what awaits us on the island.” “I am ignorant—except that we shall find Earthrid there.” “Who is Earthrid, and why is it called Swaylone’s Island?” “They say Earthrid came from Threal, but I know nothing else about him. As for Swaylone, if you like I will tell you his legend.” “If you please,” said Maskull.