The title, whose meaning dawned slowly on his astonished mind as a sunset comes in winter over a grey landscape, was The Critique of Pure Reason.

He turned the book over and over in his hands.

It was well thumbed.
He asked, controlling his voice: "Are you fond of Kant ?" "Eh ?" queried the other.
"Fond of this book ?" "Yep, that's one of my favourites.

But I ain't much on any books." "However," said Bard, "the story of this is interesting." "It is.

There's some great stuff in it," mumbled Lawlor, trying to squint at the title, which he had quite overlooked during the daze in which he first picked it up.
Bard laid the book aside and out of sight.
"And I like the characters, don't you?
Some very close work done with them." "Yep, there's a lot of narrow escapes." "Exactly.