Мор - ученик смерти

           Thedresswasn’tsomuchwornasoccupied;iftheoutlyingflouncesweren’tsupportedonwheels,thenKeliwasstrongerthanhe’dgivenhercreditfor.

           ’Whatdoyouthink?’shesaid,turningslowly.’Thiswaswornbymymother,andmygrandmother,andhermother.’

           ’What,alltogether?’saidCutwell,quitepreparedtobelieveit.Howcanshegetintoit?hewondered.Theremustbeadoorroundtheback....

           ’It’safamilyheirloom.It’sgotrealdiamondsonthebodice.’

           ’Whichbit’sthebodice?’

           Thisbit.’

           Cutwellshuddered.’It’sveryimpressive,’hesaid,whenhecouldtrusthimselftospeak.’Youdon’tthinkit’sperhapsabitmature,though?’

           ’It’squeenly.’

           ’Yes,butperhapsitwon’tallowyoutomoveveryfast?’

           ’Ihavenointentionofrunning.Theremustbedignity.’Onceagainthesetofherjawtracedthelineofherdescentallthewaytoherconqueringancestor,whopreferredtomoveveryfastatalltimesandknewasmuchaboutdignityascouldbecarriedonthepointofasharpspear.

           Cutwellspreadhishands.

           ’Allright,’hesaid.’Fine.Wealldowhatwecan.IjusthopeMorthascomeupwithsomeideas.’

           ’It’shardtohaveconfidenceinaghost,’saidKeli.’Hewalksthroughwalls!’

           ’I’vebeenthinkingaboutthat,’saidCutwell.’It’sapuzzle,isn’tit?Hewalksthroughthingsonlyifhedoesn’tknowhe’sdoingit.Ithinkit’sanindustrialdisease.’

           ’What?’

           ’Iwasnearlysurelastnight.He’sbecomingreal.’