you, since visitors are a rare
pleasure here, and those from your shadowy country most rare."

Dan uttered puzzled words of thanks, and the old man nodded, reseating
himself on the carven bench; Galatea skipped through the arched
entrance, and Dan, after an irresolute moment, dropped to the remaining
bench. Once more his thoughts were whirling in perplexed turbulence. Was
all this indeed but illusion? Was he sitting, in actuality, in a prosaic
hotel room, peering through magic spectacles that pictured this world
about him, or was he, transported by some miracle, really sitting here
in this land of loveliness? He touched the bench; stone, hard and
unyielding, met his fingers.

"Leucon," said his voice, "how did you know I was coming?"

"I was told," said the other.

"By whom?"

"By no one."

"Why--_someone_ must have told you!"

The Grey Weaver shook his solemn head. "I was just told."

Dan ceased his questioning, content for the moment to drink in the
beauty about him and then Galatea returned bearing a crystal bowl of the
strange fruits. They were piled in colorful disorder, red, purple,
orange and yellow, pear-shaped, egg-shaped, and clustered
spheroids--fantastic, unearthly. He selected a pale, transparent ovoid,
bit into it, and was deluged by a flood of sweet liquid, to the
amusement of the girl. She laughed and chose a similar morsel; biting a
tiny puncture in the end, she squeezed the contents into her mouth. Dan
took a different sort, purple and tart as Rhenish wine, and then
another, filled with edible, almond-like seeds. Galatea laughed
delightedly at his surprises, and even Leucon smiled a grey smile.
Finally Dan tossed the last husk into the brook beside them, where it
danced briskly toward the river.

"Galatea," he said, "do you ever go to a city? What cities are in
Paracosma?"

"Cities? What are cities?"

"Places where many people live close together."

"Oh," said the girl frowning. "No. There are no cities here."

"Then where are the people of Paracosma? You must have neighbors."

The girl looked puzzled. "A man and a woman live off there," she said,
gesturing toward a distant blue range of hills dim on the horizon. "Far
away over there. I went there once, but Leucon and I prefer the valley."

"But Galatea!" protested Dan. "Are you and Leucon alone in this valley?
Where--what happened to your parents--your father and mother?"

"They went away. That way--toward the sunrise. They'll retu