how little she had read
of the famous First Book. A porter came blundering into the midst of the colloquy with her trunk on a hook over his shoulder. This placed a period to the examination, for now the protostylarion fussed with his hands, said 鈥淎h, ah,鈥?two or three times 鏉窞娌瑰帇鎸夋懇浼氭墍 more, then to the guards; 鈥淵ou are released.鈥?
As the pair filed out, he drew from his desk a large ledger and a sheet of blue-colored paper, pointed his quill and said; 鈥淵ou鈥攕wear鈥攖hat鈥攚hatever鈥攐f鈥攖he鈥擜rt鈥攜ou鈥攈ave鈥攑racticed鈥攊n鈥攖he鈥攑ast鈥攜ou鈥攚ill鈥攁bandon鈥攚ith鈥攁ll鈥攚orldly鈥攙anities鈥攐n鈥攔eception鈥攊nto鈥攖he鈥攈igh鈥攐rder鈥攐f鈥攖he鈥擬yonessae,鈥?all in one breath. 鏉窞鐗规畩SPA Then, more judicially:
鈥淵our name is鈥斺€?
鈥淟alette鈥斺€?(should she say 鈥淚ssensteg?鈥?
鈥淎h, you made an evasion! The God of love demands all truth from those who come to him.鈥?
She felt a cheek-spot heat at this nagging. 鈥淎sterhax. I have given you nothing but truth. If you doubt it I will return to the ship that brought me.鈥?
鈥淥h no, oh no, my dear demoiselle, you must not mistake. All pasts are buried in the world of 鏉窞瓒虫荡tt love.鈥?
鈥淲ell, I have done that.鈥?
鈥淎nd they will welcome you, I 鏉窞鍗婂搴楀満am sure, my dear demoiselle. Oh, the perfect peace.鈥?His pen went scratch, scratch, skipping from ledger to paper, the head cocked on one side as he surveyed the result from one angle, then another, as an artist might look at a drawing, and his smile approved. A fly buzzed in the room.
鈥淪o. Demoiselle Lalette, you are now registered of the honorable estate of the Myonessae in the service of the God of love.鈥?He trotted around the desk to hand her the paper, with a red seal on it.鏉窞姘寸（璁哄潧 鈥淩est here, rest here, I will seek a porter to lead you to the couvertine.鈥?
(What would he say if he knew I am a murderess? she thought, and followed this with a quickly-suppressed flash of anger at Tegval for having made her one.) The protostylarion came back with a porter who grinned at her fine new dress and picked up the trunk. 鈥淔arewell, 鏉窞婊ㄦ睙鍖哄缃?farewell,鈥?said the little man, waving from where he sat. 鈥淵ou will hardly need a carriage, it is not far.鈥?He was writing again as Lalette followed the porter through the door.
A little recovered from her chagrins, she
turned eyes about the street to see what this strange law of the Prophet had made of the country that was to be her new home. The streets seemed wider than those in most of the cities of the ancient motherland, but the new life would have little to do with that, nor with the height of the buildings, which mostly gave red brick for Netznegon鈥檚 gloomy dark stone. The shop-windows 鏉窞鎸夋懇浠锋牸 were full of goods; Lalette could hardly pause to inspect, but from the distance, they had an air of meretriciousness and false luxury. All the people seemed to be in a great hurry; Lalette began to wonder what they would do if she put a 鏉窞瓒崇枟搴楁渶澶氱殑鍦ㄥ摢閲?small witchery on one of these urgent passengers to make him stand like a post鈥攖hen shuddered away from the thought.
The porter turned a corner and they were at the gate of what had