"I will never leave you again, Nycteris," cried Photogen. "Only wait
till the sun comes, and brings me back my strength, and we will go
away together, and never, never part any more."

"No, no," persisted Nycteris; "we must go now. And you must learn to
be strong in the dark as well as in the day, else you will always be
only half brave. I have begun already--not to fight your sun, but to
try to get at peace with him, and understand what he really is, and
what he means with me--whether to hurt me or to make the best of me.
You must do the same with my darkness."

"But you don't know what mad animals there are away there towards the
south," said Photogen. "They have huge green eyes, and they would eat
you up like a bit of celery, you beautiful creature!"

"Come, come! you must," said Nycteris, "or I shall have to pretend to
leave you, to make you come. I have seen the green eyes you speak of,
and I will take care of you from them."

"You! How can you do that? If it were day now, I could take care of
you from the worst of them. But as it is, I can't even see them for
this abominable darkness. I could not see your lovely eyes but for the
light that is in them; that lets me see straight into heaven through
them. They are windows into the very heaven beyond the sky. I believe
they are the very place where the stars are made."

"You come then, or I shall shut them," said Nycteris, "and you shan't
see them any more till you are good. Come. If you can't see the wild
beasts, I can."