Then he wrapped his furs around him and went out again. Scarce a hundred paces from Unorna’s door he met the Wanderer. He looked up into the cold, calm face, and put out his hand, with a greeting.
“You look as though you were in a very peaceful frame of mind,” observed Keyork.
“Why should I be anything but peaceful?” asked the other, “I have nothing to disturb me.”
“True, true. You possess a very fine organisation. I envy you your magnificent constitution, my dear friend. I would like to have some of it, and grow young again.”
“On your principle of embalming the living, I suppose.”
“Exactly,” answered the sage with a deep, rolling laugh. “By the bye, have you been with our friend Unorna? I suppose that is a legitimate question, though you always tell me I am tactless.”
“Perfectly legitimate, my dear Keyork. Yes, I have just left her. It is like a breath of spring morning to go there in these days.”
“You find it refreshing?”
“Yes. There is something about her that I could describe as soothing, if I were aware of ever being irritable, which I am not.”
Keyork smiled and looked down, trying to dislodge a bit of ice from the pavement with the point of his stick.