For fifteen minutes after that he sat cross-legged on the sand, with the mirror on a rock, and worked.

When he had finished he inspected himself closely.
"You're not half bad," he concluded, and he spoke seriously now.

"Four years ago when you started up here you were thirty--and you looked forty.

Now you're thirty-four, and if it wasn't for the snow lines in your eyes I'd say you were a day or two younger.

That's pretty good." He had washed his face and was drying it with the towel when a sound made him look over beyond the rocks.