Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. I’m behaving shockingly, I know. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved.
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