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           Itwasjustacolouroutofspace—afrightfulmessengerfromunformedrealmsofinfinitybeyondallNatureasweknowit;fromrealmswhosemereexistencestunsthebrainandnumbsuswiththeblackextra-cosmicgulfsitthrowsopenbeforeourfrenziedeyes.

           IdoubtverymuchifAmmiconsciouslyliedtome,andIdonotthinkhistalewasallafreakofmadnessasthetownfolkhadforewarned.Somethingterriblecametothehillsandvalleysonthatmeteor,andsomethingterrible—thoughIknownotinwhatproportion—stillremains.Ishallbegladtoseethewatercome.MeanwhileIhopenothingwillhappentoAmmi.Hesawsomuchofthething—anditsinfluencewassoinsidious.Whyhasheneverbeenabletomoveaway?HowclearlyherecalledthosedyingwordsofNahum’s—“can’tgitaway...drawsye...yeknowsumm’at’scomin’,but’tain’tnouse....”Ammiissuchagoodoldman—whenthereservoirganggetstoworkImustwritethechiefengineertokeepasharpwatchonhim.Iwouldhatetothinkofhimasthegrey,twisted,brittlemonstrositywhichpersistsmoreandmoreintroublingmysleep.