"Bring Earth to me," says Koshchei. This was done, and Koshchei looked over the planet, and found a Bible. Koshchei opened the Bible, and read the Revelation of St. John the Divine, while Steinvor talked with her illusions. "I see," said Koshchei. "The idea is a little garish. Still--!" So he replaced the Bible, and bade them put Earth, too, in its proper place, for Koshchei dislikes wasting anything. Then Koshchei smiled and created Heaven about Steinvor and her illusions, and he made Heaven just such a place as was described in the book. "And so, Jurgen, that was how it came about," ended the God of Jurgen's grandmother. "And Me also Koshchei created at that time, with the seraphim and the saints and all the blessed, very much as you see us: and, of course, he caused us to have been here always, since the beginning of time, because that, too, was in the book." "But how could that be done?" says Jurgen, with brows puckering. "And in what way could Koshchei juggle so with time?" "How should I know, since I am but the illusion of an old woman, as you have so frequently proved by logic? Let it suffice that whatever Koshchei wills, not only happens, but has already happened beyond the ancientest memory of man and his mother. How otherwise could he be Koshchei?" "And all this," said Jurgen, virtuously, "for a woman who was not even faithful to her husband!" "Oh, very probably!" said the God: "at all events, it was done for a woman who loved. Koshchei will do almost anything to humor love, since love is one of the two things which are impossible to Koshchei." "I have heard that pride is impossible to Koshchei--" The God of Jurgen's grandmother raised His white eyebrows. "What is pride? I do not think I ever heard of it before. Assuredly it is something that does not enter here." "But why is love impossible to Koshchei?" "Because Koshchei made things as they are, and day and night he contemplates things as they are. How, then, can Koshchei love anything?" But Jurgen shook his sleek black head. "That I cannot understand at all. If I were imprisoned in a cell wherein was nothing except my verses I would not be happy, and certainly I would not be proud: but even so, I would love my verses. I am afraid that I fall in more readily with the ideas of Grandfather Satan than with Yours; and without contradicting You, I cannot but wonder if what You reveal is true." "And how should I know whether or not I speak the truth?" the God asked of him, "since I am but the illusion of an old woman, as you have so frequently proved by logic." "Well, well!" said Jurgen, "You may be right in all matters, and certainly I cannot presume to say You are wrong: but still, at the same time--! No, even now I do not quite believe in You." "Who could expect it of a clever fellow, who sees so clearly through the illusions of old women?" the God asked, a little wearily. And Jurgen answered: