"What!"
"I don't exactly believe your story, you know.... You must have
been--watching--for a long time."
Behind him Paul heard Nisana's miserable whisper: "What is it? What is
it?" And Wright's muffled answer: "A sickness."
"There's no truth in that, Ed," Paul said. "Five days ago we still
supposed that you and Ann were lost when the lifeboat went down in the
channel."
Spearman shrugged. "Yes--I think you've come too soon. You should
have worked longer in the dark. We had an epidemic here. Many died.
And another trouble--mental--well, you've kept track of that, of
course: the way they've fallen away from me, gone back to the forest
and the old life, when I could have given them a golden age. A prophet
without honor." He coughed and straightened heavy shoulders. "My God,
I can't blame the poor fools--now that I know how it was done." His
voice did not rise. "Without the conspiracy and interference, I could
soon have started them in building a ship that--Never mind that now. I
have the designs, of course. That what you came for?"