Unanswerable arguments of idealism! The earth with all these new Lowlands, had room for all. Why should one or another set of humans strive to kill, or to be killed? Unanswerable. * * * * * Rhana listened quietly. “So? They are frightened? They fear me already? That is good. Can you still talk with them, Nereid?” “Yes. I think so. I will try--if you will meet them.” “Of course, child. Tell them what they wish shall be done.” Calm, impressive, gray face. That hawklike profile, impassive, unruffled. “Tell them, Nereid, I will do what they wish. I am glad I have you now.” She just barely smiled. “You and Jeff will go with me to this meeting--you are a good interpreter with your flying thoughts.” She made no effort to keep me from Nereid. “Tell me when you have arranged it.” She strode away. “Nereid, is that true what you have told her?” “Yes.” “But not Polly--Polly isn’t coming? Tell her and Dr. Plantet not to come. No use. Why, Nereid, she might hold them here--keep Polly away from here.” “The foreign director will come. Oh, Jeff, do you think it will be of any use? I want it to be. I pray--I have prayed so much--to my God--to Arturo’s whom he told me about--which is the same God.” She sat beside me. Poor little Nereid! The struggles through which we had passed; the murder of her father--her people lost with their doomed realm; the long fight to get upward into the daylight--it all had changed her. She was pale and wan; always trembling, eager, earnest, pathetically anxious to be of help. We were, for this moment, quite alone. She put her hand on my arm. “Jeff--I was thinking of Arturo. I have tried to reach him, but I cannot. I wanted you to know. Did you know I love Arturo?” “Why, yes, Nereid.” “I think he loves me. We have never spoken of it. I just wanted to say that if--if you ever get back to Arturo, safe out of all this--” She stammered, her voice broke, but she went on with a rush: “If you are safe sometime with him and I--I am not, I want you just to tell him that Nereid loved him. Will you do that? I want it very much--want him to know what might have been for us--it seems so very beautiful, what might be.” Dear little Nereid! I said quietly: “You are coming safely through it, Nereid. Don’t think things like that.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder. You will tell him?” “Yes. I will. But it’s nonsense!” I met her eyes. They had always seemed eyes with the green mystery and romance of the sea in them. I had thought of that often; there was no sea in the abyss of the Mound. I had spoken of it--her love for the water--the way she swam. There was a river, by the City of the Mound, and all the joy of her girlhood was found in its murmuring water.