17
Dymer was talking now. Now Dymer told
Of his own love and losing, drowsily.
The Master leaned towards him, “Was it cold,
This spirit, to the touch?”—“No, Sir, not she,”
Said Dymer. And his host: “Why this must be
Aethereal, not aereal! Oh my soul,
Be still ... but wait. Tell on, Sir, tell the whole.”