"You're not real," he said bitterly to Four-eyes.
"Not very," Four-eyes agreed. "I'm twice as real as that jerk, though," he insisted, pointing to Hairy.
Ahead of them, or "below," a point of orange light was slowly swelling. Herman watched it without much interest.
Hairy broke out into a torrent of cursing. "I this and that in the milk of your this!" he said. "I this, that and the other in the this of your that. Your sister! Your cousin! Your grandmother's uncle!"
Four-eyes listened with awed approval. "Them was good books, hah?" he asked happily.
"Better than those scratchings in the caves," Hairy said.
"Something to think about till they haul us out again. Well," said Four-eyes philosophically, "here we are."
he orange spot had enlarged into the semblance of a lighted room, rather like a stage setting. Inside were two enormous Persons, one sitting, one standing. Otherwise, and except for three upholstered chairs, the room was bare. No—as they swooped down toward it, Herman blinked and looked again. A leather couch had appeared against the far wall.