( He listens: let this much be said of him. Derisively, incredulously, with an air of knowing that seems to suggest whatever strange plan this newcomer puts before him will prove inferior to what the ladies of the lake had already devised. He knows so. It must be true.

But at least he does not rule out the proposition before the man has completed his plea. He can be patient. )

Nephew, nephew, if you know your way, you tell me. 'We can find another way' is awfully unclear, when we're on borrowed time. Give me meat on your bone.

( A concrete, unwavering proposal. Then he'll consider. ) I'm not living on hope. And they're dying off it. So, needs more.