"You—lonely?" he repeated in surprise. "Didn't know you ever felt that way."
With a suggestion of impatience, she touched the bulging crust of clay surrounding the original entrance-hole.
"So lonely," she insisted. "Please let it out."
Not quite sure of her meaning, he picked up a crowbar and tapped the hardened crust. This seemed to be what she desired, for she stood aside expectantly. Cracking the surface, he dislodged a section and allowed the gummy interior substance to flow out.
The girl smiled her pleasure, then cupped both hands over the soft mass, working them below the surface almost lovingly.
"So lonely," she murmured, in a crooning voice.
When she withdrew her hands, smeared with the gummy exudation, she held a small lump of some kind in her palms. As she rubbed the clay away, Marlin saw with a start that it was a dead field mouse.
This was one of the numerous creatures that had been enmeshed in the sticky clay, he realized. But how had the girl known it was there—close to the surface at this point?
"Better throw it into the incinerator," he advised gently. "Nasty thing. Dead."
Shrinking from his outstretched hand, she cuddled the mire-covered little body to her breast and almost furtively escaped down the ladder.