![]() Scholars? What sort of scholars? And the other words. It struck me with full force that there had been moments in my long life when I would have found his message irresistible, so great had been my loneliness, so great had been my longing to be understood. I thought over his distinct message and the power of mind with which he'd sent it to me. I stood on the roof for a long time, feeling the blessed wind, and wondering in its silence, what I should do about this strange discovery. On the contrary, he was a most strange sort of being, a scholar of the supernatural, a spy upon creatures such as me. He was no great Venetian, no painter, no cleric, no poet, no alchemist, and certainly no member of the Grand Council of Venice. I knew it die moment I penetrated his mind. I wondered if it corresponded to the prime of life in mortals-those years when you are strongest andīut this young mortal had nothing to do with the grand society in which I moved. I wondered if for every immortal there was a Perfect Time. ![]() All this his mind gave me rather easily without the young man realizing it, obviously, and then using the Mind Gift I sent a very direct message to him. ![]()
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