Maskull flushed. "I feel like a complete ignoramus here.... Won't it
hurt you?"

"If your blood pains you, I suppose it will pain me. But we will
share the pain."

"This is a new kind of hospitality to me," he muttered.

"Wouldn't you do the same for me?" asked Joiwind, half smiling,
half agitated.

"I can't answer for any of my actions in this world. I scarcely know
where I am.... Why, yes--of course I would, Joiwind."

While they were talking it had become full day. The mists had rolled
away from the ground, and only the upper atmosphere remained fog-
charged. The desert of scarlet sand stretched in all directions,
except one, where there was a sort of little oasis--some low hills,
clothed sparsely with little purple trees from base to summit. It
was about a quarter of a mile distant.

Joiwind had brought with her a small flint knife. Without any trace
of nervousness, she made a careful, deep incision on her upper arm.
Maskull expostulated.

"Really, this part of it is nothing," she said, laughing. "And if it
were--a sacrifice that is no sacrifice--what merit is there in
that? ... Come now--your arm!"

The blood was streaming down her arm. It was not red blood, but a