Mariet purposely puts something away for him in the closet for the night; when she looks for it in the morning, it is gone.

Just think of it, no one ever hears when he takes it.

Does he fly ?" Both go off.

Only the two old men, seated in a friendly manner on two neighbouring rocks, remain on the deserted shore.

And the old men resemble each other so closely, and whatever they may say to each other, the whiteness of their hair, the deep lines of their wrinkles, make them kin.
The tide is coming.
"They have all gone away," mutters Khorre.