Instructed in his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young man tightly to his body with all three arms. Afeeling of wild, sweet delight immediately passed through him. Then for the first time he comprehended the triumphant joys of "absorbing." It satisfied the hunger of the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body. Digrung proved feeble - he made little opposition. His personality passed slowly and evenly into Maskull's. The latter became strong and gorged. The victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in his arms. He dropped the body, and stood trembling. He had committed his second crime. He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but ...
Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine. He half expected her to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, she made a sign to him to pick up Crimtyphon's corpse. As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung's dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask.
"Why hasn't he altered?" he muttered to himself.
Tydomin heard him. She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot.
"He isn't dead - that's why. The expression You mean is waiting for your death.""Then is that my real character?"
She laughed softly. "You came here to carve a strange world, and now it appears you are carved yourself. Oh, there's no doubt about it, Maskull. You needn't stand there gaping. You belong to Shaping, like the rest of us. You are not a king, or a god.""Since when have I belonged to him?"