"The advantage of not being cruel and selfish, dear Maskull."

He threw the fruit away and flushed again.

Joiwind looked into his swarthy, bearded face without embarrassment and slowly smiled. "Have I said too much? Have I been too familiar? Do you know why you think so? It's because you are still impure. By and by you will listen to all language without shame."

Before he realised what she was about to do, she threw her tentacle round his neck, like another arm. He offered no resistance to its cool pressure. The contact of her soft flesh with his own was so moist and sensitive that it resembled another kind of kiss. He saw who it was that embraced him - a pale, beautiful girl. Yet, oddly enough, he experienced neither voluptuousness nor sexual pride. The love expressed by the caress was rich, glowing, and personal, but there was not the least trace of sex in it - and so he received it.

She removed her tentacle, placed her two arms on his shoulders and penetrated with her eyes right into his very soul.

"Yes, I wish to be pure," he muttered. "Without that what can I ever be but a weak, squirming devil?"

Joiwind released him. "This we call the 'magn,' " she said, indicating her tentacle. "By means of it what we love already we love more, and what we don't love at all we begin to love."

"It is the one we guard most jealously," said Joiwind.

(Editor：library)