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A Voyage to Arcturus

The professor talked excitedly to Kent - Smith in low tones. Faull beckoned Backhouse
behind a wing of scenery, and handed him his check without a word. The medium put it
in his pocket, buttoned his coat, and walked out of the room. Lang followed him, in order
to get a drink.
The stranger poked his face up into Maskull's.
"Well, giant, what do you think of it all? Wouldn't you like to see the land where this sort
of fruit grows wild?"
"What sort of fruit?"
"That specimen goblin."
Maskull waved him away with his huge hand. "Who are you, and how did you come
here?"
"Call up your friend. Perhaps he may recognise me." Nightspore had moved a chair to the
fire, and was watching the embers with a set, fanatical expression.
"Let Krag come to me, if he wants me," he said, in his strange voice.
"You see, he does know me," uttered Krag, with a humorous look. Walking over to
Nightspore, he put a hand on the back of his chair.
"Still the same old gnawing hunger?"
"What is doing these days?" demanded Nightspore disdainfully, without altering his
attitude.
"Surtur has gone, and we are to follow him."
"How do you two come to know each other, and of whom are you speaking?" asked
Maskull, looking from one to the other in perplexity.
"Krag has something for us. Let us go outside," replied Nightspore. He got up, and
glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the direction of his eye, observed that the
few remaining men were watching their little group attentively.
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