I've just got to get out of here, he thought, unless I want to be like that machine in the maze... We all stood around and laughed as it busily probed and searched and sniffed ... then we filled a small trough in its path with water and it panicked touchingly but only for a moment, then its busy antennae got going again, buzzing and sniffing, not knowing that we were observing it, and in general we couldn't have cared less that it didn't, though it was that which was the most terrible thing of all. If it was terrible at all, he thought. Necessity can't be either terrible or kind. Necessity is necessary, and anything else about it we imagine ourselves, or machines in mazes, if they can imagine. It's just that when we make a mistake, necessity grips us by the throat and we start crying and complaining how cruel and terrible it is, and it's just exactly what it is - it's us who are stupid or blind. I can even philosophize today, he thought. Probably from the lack of humidity. That's all I need, I can philosophize...
"There it is, your path," said Nava angrily, "come on, if you please."
Angry, he thought. Won't let me bathe, I can't talk, it's dry everywhere, nasty ... never mind, let her be angry, she's quiet, and thank God for that. Who walks these paths? Surely they can't be walked often enough to keep the grass down? It's an odd path all right, it is as if it were dug out, not trampled down...
The path led at first through comfortable dry places, but after some time it descended steeply and became a vicious strip of black mud. The pure forest ended, bogs appeared on all sides, moss grew everywhere, it got damp and stifling. Nava at once livened up. She felt much better here. She was now talking continuously and soon the well-known ringing hum took over and established itself in Kandid's head; he moved in a half-dream, forgetting all his philosophy, almost forgetting where he was going, giving himself up to chance thoughts, not even thoughts, fancies.
... Hopalong comes hobbling down the main street and tells everyone he meets (and even if he meets nobody, he still puts it out), that Dummy has gone off, yes, and taken Nava with him, to the City, likely he's gone to the Reed-beds, good fish to trick there; just stick your finger in the water - there you are, a fish. Only why should he, if you think about it. Dummy doesn't eat fish, fool, although maybe he'll decide to catch a few for Nava, Nava eats fish, there now he'll feed her up on fish... But why did he go on asking questions about the City? No-o-o, he's not gone to the Reed-beds, we can't expect him back soon.
Toward him along the main street comes Buster and tells everyone he meets that Dummy now, used to go about trying to talk people into going to the City, Buster, let's go day after tomorrow to the City, and when I make too much food so the old woman tells me off, then off he goes without me and without food ... on his own, yes, wool on yer nose, off he goes, no food, give him one in the eye and put a stop to that, no going with food, and with no food he'd be frightened to go, sit at home, give him one...
And Barnacle stands next to the old man breakfasting at his house and says to him: you're eating again, and eating somebody else's again. Don't think I begrudge it, I'm just amazed how many pots of filling food can be stowed away inside a skinny old man like you. You eat, he says, but you tell me is there really only one of you in the village? Maybe there's really three, or two at least? It's weird looking at you, eat, eat till you're full up, then explain that it's not right to...
Nava walked alongside, hanging on to his arm with both of hers, talking with a reckless air:
