Two whetstones met on the street.
“Queer, isn’t it?”
“What’s queer?”
“The night falls—“
“Yes.”
“—but it doesn’t break.”
“No.”
“And the day breaks—“
“Yes.”
“But it doesn’t fall?”
“No—but it’s getting very warm.”
“Yes, it is.”
“There would be a big thaw but for one thing—“
“And what’s that?”
“There’s nothing frozen.”
And they parted.
