Indeed, part of his boyhood had been cast among these men, and he was not old enough to have learned that success was not to be gauged by their standard.

The moon lit up the dark interior of the coach with a faint poetic light.

The lazy swinging of the vehicle that was bearing him away--albeit only for a night and a day--the solitude, the glimpses from the window of great distances full of vague possibilities, made the abused ring potent as that of Gyges.

He dreamed with his eyes open.

From an Alnaschar vision he suddenly awoke.