She turned his head with one of the long, white hands⁠—and he looked into the faces of the Three; looked long, was shaken even as had been Olaf and myself; was swept by that same wave of power and of⁠—of⁠—what can I call it?⁠— holiness that streamed from them.

Then for the first time I saw real awe mount into his face. Another moment he stared⁠—and dropped upon one knee and bowed his head before them as would a worshipper before the shrine of his saint. And⁠—I am not ashamed to tell it⁠—I joined him; and with us knelt Lakla and Olaf and Rador.

The mist of fiery opal swirled up about the Three; hid them.

And with a long, deep, joyous sigh Lakla took Larry’s hand, drew him to his feet, and silently we followed them out of that hall of wonder.