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We walked on, to the right, circling slowly around to the rear. The
design seemed to be within the floor rather than upon it, seen as through a
layer of glass. But nowhere was the surface slippery.
We paused for a minute or so while she took its measure from a new
angle.
"So how are you responding to it?" I finally asked.
"Esthetically," she said.
"Anything else?"
"Power," she said. "It seems to radiate something."
She leaned forward and waved her hand above the nearest line. "It's
almost a physical pressure," she added then.
We moved farther, passing along the back length of the grand design. I
could see across the Pattern, to the place where the lantern glowed on the
floor near to the entranceway. Its light was negligible beside the greater
illumination we regarded now.
Shortly, Coral halted again. She pointed.
"What is this single line, which seems to end right here?" she asked.
"It's not the end," I said. "It's the beginning. That is the place
where one commences the walking of the Pattern."
She moved nearer, passing her hand above it also.
"Yes," she said after a moment. "I can feel that it starts here."
For how long we stood there, I am uncertain. Then she reached out, took
hold of my hand and squeezed it.
"Thanks," she said, "for everything."
I was about to ask her why that had such a final sound about it, when
she moved forward and set her foot upon the line
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