CHAPTER 3A TIMID little voice said, “Pardon me. Are you really not an hallucination?”
Feliz Gebrod jumped like a startled elephant; he had been certain that he was alone in this part of the building. He jerked his head to the left, and saw, peering at him from the corridor around the wall that separated his cell from the one on its left, the face of the girl in the woods.
“You!” bellowed Feliz, bounding to his feet.
The face jerked back. Feliz rushed to the bars, and, craning his neck, stared down the corridor to his left. He was just able to make her out, shrinking against the bars of the cell next door.
“Come here,” ordered Feliz, in the impatient tone of voice people use on a lost puppy when they want to look at the owner’s name on its collar, and the pup, not understanding, is shy.
