“The Three say no, Goodwin.” There was again in her eyes the pity with which she had looked upon Olaf. “The Shining One⁠— feeds ⁠—upon the flame of life itself, setting in its place its own fires and its own will. Its slaves are only shells through which it gleams. Death, say the Three, is the best that can come to them; yet will that be a boon great indeed.”

“But they have souls, mavourneen ,” Larry said to her. “And they’re alive still⁠—in a way. Anyhow, their souls have not gone from them.”

I caught a hope from his words⁠—sceptic though I am⁠—holding that the existence of soul has never been proved by dependable laboratory methods⁠—for they recalled to me that when I had seen Throckmartin, Edith had been close beside him.