They now came up to him.  He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed in a shirt and breeches of skin.  Since turning his back to the wind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron.  There was no third arm.  His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting chin pushed the beard forward.  On his forehead there were two flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb.  These membranes were expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stem eyes underneath.  When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through.  The man was middle-aged.

His physical distinctness transcended nature.  By contrast with him, every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred.  Tydomin’s person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and Maskull realised that it was no better with himself.  A queer, quickening fire began running through his veins.

He turned to the woman.  “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him company.  We can now part.  No doubt you will think it high time.”

“Let Tydomin come too.”

The words were delivered in a rough, foreign tongue, but were as intelligible to Maskull as if spoken in English.

“You who know my name, also know my sex,” said Tydomin quietly.  “It is death for me to enter Sant.”

“That is the old law.  I am the bearer of the new law.”

“Is it so—­and will it be accepted?”

“The old skin is cracking, the new skin has been silently forming underneath, the moment of sloughing has arrived.”

The storm gathered.  The green snow drove against them, as they stood talking, and it grew intensely cold.  None noticed it.

“What is your name?” asked Maskull, with a beating heart.

“My name, Maskull, is Spadevil.  You, a voyager across the dark ocean of space, shall be my first witness and follower.  You, Tydomin, a daughter of the despised sex, shall be my second.”

“The new law?  But what is it?”

“Until eye sees, of what use it is for ear to hear? ....  Come, both of you, to me!”

Tydomin went to him unhesitatingly.  Spadevil pressed his hand on her sorb and kept it there for a few minutes, while he closed his own eyes.  When he removed it, Maskull observed that the sorb was transformed into twin membranes like Spadevil’s own.

Tydomin looked dazed.  She glanced quietly about for a little while, apparently testing her new faculty.  Then the tears started to her eyes and, snatching up Spadevil’s hand, she bent over and kissed it hurriedly many times.

“My past has been bad,” she said.  “Numbers have received harm from me, and none good.  I have killed and worse.  But now I can throw all that away, and laugh.  Nothing can now injure me.  Oh, Maskull, you and I have been fools together!”