On the third day he asked Zweete how it was that his left hand was white and shriveled, and who were Umslopogaas and Nada, of whom he had let fall some words. Then the old man told him the tale that is set out here. Day by day he told some of it till it was finished. It was the past that spoke to his listener, telling of deeds long forgotten, of deeds that are no more known. And because the history of Nada the Lily and of those with whom her life was intertwined moved him strangely, and in many ways, he has done more, he has printed it that others may judge of it. . . .