rs, leading dourn, end at a door, on , quick footsteps, a grinding bolt. t. t Richard and nods.

    All right? he says.

    All rigy o stay.

    ting to make out tures beo let us pass  tig our backs.

    tcs kitc is small, and , and one or table and—perer all, ters—a brazier in a cage, ools about it. Beside ts do-faced, red-ceetrip of dry meat, and dressed—I notice traordinary coat, t seems pieced togeties of fur. s jao keep it from barking.  Ric me.  and gloves and bonnet. les.

    price togs, he says.

    t creaks as it tilts—a rike cs it doruggles from , and tonised brazier, t of fur—it is a sleeping, swollen-.

    I look at Ric aken ands  smiling oddly. Everyone is silent. No-one moves save te-  table. Saffeta, t rustles. o me, sands before me, ries to catcures. Ss ill close and terribly eager.  red o me, I flinc ill does not is so arange, compels me. I stand and let s it back. And tranger still,  h her fingers.

    S speaks to Ricears of age, or of emotion.

    Good boy, she says.