“No,” he repeated. “You’re mistaken.”
“Don’t be absurd. Why?”
“Look out there, over that tree to the horizon.”
“I’m looking.”
“Do you see anything?”
“Yes; a sort of little smudge.”
“That’s why.”
“It’s a very shadowy sort of why.”
“There’s substance enough under it.”
“A riddle? I’ll give it up.”