Nothing was stirring but a chill gust of wind that seemed to issue from some great, empty void: a wind as gray as ashes.
EIGHTEEN: THE PURSUIT
Momo didn't know how much time had passed. The church clock chimed occasionally, but she scarcely heard it.
Her frozen limbs took ages to thaw out. She felt numb and incapable of making decisions.
How could she go home to the amphitheater and climb into bed, now that there was no hope left for herself and her friends?
How could she, when she knew that things would never come right again? She was worried about Cassiopeia, too. What if the men in gray found her?
She began to reproach herself bitterly for having mentioned the tortoise at all, but she'd been too dazed to think straight.
″Anyway,″ she reflected, trying to console herself, ″Cassiopeia may have found her way back to Professor Hora long ago.
Yes, I hope she isn't still looking for me. It would be better for both of us.″
At that moment something nudged her bare foot. Momo gave a start and looked down.
There was Cassiopeia, as large as life, and she could dimly see some words on the animal's shell: HERE I AM AGAIN, they said.
Without a second thought, Momo grabbed the tortoise and stuffed it under her jacket.
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