That's what may have happened to this ship.
And if it has, she may be naked to the attacks of beings belonging to
some other state of existence."
"What's made her like that?" he asked, in a really awed sort of tone.
"The Lord knows!" I answered. "Perhaps something to do with magnetic
stresses; but you'd not understand, and I don't, really. And, I suppose,
inside of me, I don't believe it's anything of the kind, for a minute.
I'm not built that way. And yet I don't know! Perhaps, there may have
been some rotten thing done aboard of her. Or, again, it's a heap more
likely to be something quite outside of anything I know."
"If they're immaterial then, they're spirits?" he questioned.
"I don't know," I said. "It's so hard to say what I really think, you
know. I've got a queer idea, that my head-piece likes to think good; but
I don't believe my tummy believes it."
"Go on!" he said.
"Well," I said. "Suppose the earth were inhabited by two kinds of life.
We're one, and _they're_ the other."
"Go on!" he said.
"Well," I said.
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