He swung easily, lazily upon the clouds; warmth and light surrounded him; a part of him, his toes, perhaps, would be suddenly cold, then he would cry, or he would strike his head against the side of his cot and it would hurt, and so then he would cry again.

But these tears would not be tears of grief, but simply declarations of astonishment and wonder.
He did not, of course, realise that as, very slowly, very gradually he began to understand the terms and conditions of his new life, so with the same gradation, his Friend was expressed in those terms.

Slowly that great shadow filled the room, took on human shape, until at last it would be only thus that he would appear.

But Henry would not realise the change, soon he would not know that it had ever been otherwise.

Dimly, out of chaos, the world was being made for him.