the beast: for himself, in order to conquer; for others, in order to hide himself. The beast had conquered, the beast had eaten him up. It wanted no more of him; the great dragon-worm had disappeared. It no longer wound through the skies; and nothing more hung in the skies but twilight-distilling clouds. . . . Oh, the creepy, chilly twilight ! Oh, the all-pervading mist, dank and clammy all round him! He shivered; and the fire no longer warmed him. He crept up to it, he could have crept into it; and the glowing, open fire no longer warmed him.
"Line, ring for some wood: I want to see flames; this coke's no use to me."
Then he heaped up the logs until Adeline feared that he would set the chimney on fire.
Or else Constance would come to fetch him, wanted him to go for a walk.
"No, dear, it's too chilly for me outside."
He remained sitting in what to the others was the unendurable heat of the blazing fire. He shivered. He shivered to such an extent that he asked:
"Line, send in the children."
"But, Gerrit, they'll only tire you."
"No, no . . . I'm longing to see them."
They would come in; and, when the others came home from school, he would gather them round him and try to play with them, teasing and tickling them now and again. It tired him, but they were some-
