3The boy moves slowly, scarcely breathing. Ahead the forest seems impenetrable; before even reaching it he is stumbling on roots and rotten logs. He nearly twists his ankles in the holes where the ground has sunk. How could he hope even to make an entrance into that forest, let alone emerge from out of it again? And how should he expect to find Psalter in there, without a light, when the dog did not come despite all his calling? No, it's because he is dead! Long dead! He is silent drifting dust in an empty room in an empty house with a window that looks out on...The boy shakes his head, trying to clear from it images of a room in a house he had never seen, with a window overlooking things he could not know, colours he'd never witnessed, horrific faces facing back!