“It has also been told me that Surtur and Crystalman are one and the same.”
“You have wise and truthful acquaintances.”
“Then how could it have been Surtur whom I saw?” said Maskull, more to himself than to her. “That apparition was something quite different.”
She dropped her mocking manner and, sliding imperceptibly toward him, gently pulled his arm.
“You see—we have to talk. Sit down beside me, and ask me your questions. I’m not excessively smart, but I’ll try to be of assistance.”
Maskull permitted himself to be dragged down with soft violence. She bent toward him, as if confidentially, and contrived that her sweet, cool, feminine breath should fan his cheek.
“Aren’t you here to alter the evil to the good, Maskull? Then what does it matter who sent you?”
“What can you possibly know of good and evil?”
“Are you only instructing the initiated?”
“Who am I, to instruct anybody? However, you’re quite right. I wish to do what I can—not because I am qualified, but because I am here.”