“Do you think you can put it on by yourself?”

He was distinctly conscious of these words, yet her voice had not sounded.

He forced himself up to his feet, and she helped him to master the complications of the drapery.

“Poor man—­how you are suffering!” she said, in the same inaudible language.  This time he discovered that the sense of what she said was received by his brain through the organ on his forehead.

“Where am I?  Is this Tormance?” he asked.  As he spoke, he staggered.

She caught him, and helped him to sit down.  “Yes.  You are with friends.”

Then she regarded him with a smile, and began speaking aloud, in English.  Her voice somehow reminded him of an April day, it was so fresh, nervous, and girlish.  “I can now understand your language.  It was strange at first.  In the future I’ll speak to you with my mouth.”

“This is extraordinary!  What is this organ?” he asked, touching his forehead.

“It is named the ‘breve.’  By means of it we read one another’s thoughts.  Still, speech is better, for then the heart can be read too.”

He smiled.  “They say that speech is given us to deceive others.”

“One can deceive with thought, too.  But I’m thinking of the best, not the worst.”

“Have you seen my friends?”

She scrutinised him quietly, before answering.  “Did you not come alone?”

“I came with two other men, in a machine.  I must have lost consciousness on arrival, and I haven’t seen them since.”

“That’s very strange!  No, I haven’t seen them.  They can’t be here, or we would have known it.  My husband and I—­”

“What is your name, and your husband’s name?”

“Mine is Joiwind—­my husband’s is Panawe.  We live a very long way from here; still, it came to us both last night that you were lying here insensible.  We almost quarrelled about which of us should come to you, but in the end I won.”  Here she laughed.  “I won, because I am the stronger-hearted of the two; he is the purer in perception.”

“Thanks, Joiwind!” said Maskull simply.

The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin.  “Oh, why do you say that?  What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness?  I rejoiced at the opportunity....  But now we must exchange blood.”

“What is this?” he demanded, rather puzzled.

“It must be so.  Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world.  Until you have an infusion of mine, you will never get up.”

Maskull flushed.  “I feel like a complete ignoramus here....  Won’t it hurt you?”

“If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me.  But we will share the pain.”

“This is a new kind of hospitality to me,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?” asked Joiwind, half smiling, half agitated.

“I can’t answer for any of my actions in this world.  I scarcely know where I am....  Why, yes—­of course I would, Joiwind.”