Looking up at the marvelous examples of architecture that surrounded them, Paul observed that many of the houses had no windows, and inquired the reason.
“Windows and doors are here only a matter of taste, and not of necessity,” answered the elder man; “the denizens of Levachan enter their houses wherever they please without experiencing the slightest obstruction. Likewise light and air are not here confined to special material and apertures for their admission. We are only just beginning to discover some of the possibilities of matter upon our plane of existence. Here these things are understood; for matter and spirit are one, their apparent difference lying in us.”
“Yes,” said Paul, “and I perceive that the inhabitants move from place to place through the upper atmosphere in defiance of all law!”
“Law, Mr. Henley, is the operation of man's will. Where man through uncounted eons of time has believed himself the slave of matter, it becomes his master. I mean that the belief enslaves him, and not until he has worked his way out of the false belief, will he become free.”
They continued their walk through gardens of bewitching beauty, and amid lights so far transcending any previous experience of Henley's that he no longer even tried to comprehend Ah Ben's labored explanations. At last his guide, turning, abruptly said:
“Come, let us return; the time is growing short!”
“Time!” said Henley, with an amused expression. “I thought you told me that time was only a mental condition!”
“True, I did,” said Ah Ben, with a return of the same inexpressibly sad look; “but did I tell you that it had ceased to belong to me?”
There was no intimation of reproof, no endeavor to evade the remark; but Paul could not but observe the change in the man's manner as they retraced their steps. Indeed, he was conscious of an overpowering sadness himself, as he turned his back upon the strange scene.
“Come!” said Ah Ben, with authority, leading the way.