loathsome condition yourself.'
I looked round the bathing chamber. 'They don't seem to go in for soap
either,' I said, 'and that's worse.'
'Eh? No, apparently not. The fellow made no mention of what we were to
wash with. I suppose the idea is to lie and soak. Here goes!'
He flung himself into the water and stretched his limbs with renewed
crows of delight.
I watched him for a moment or two, until something in his appearance
attracted my gaze more insistently, and I stared with such intentness
that Poyning demanded what was up.
'What does the water feel like?' said I.
'Gorgeous. Why?'
'Look at yourself, man!'
Poyning looked. He jumped out of the water as if he had been stung,
then stared down at his own limbs and up at me in bewilderment.
Ye gods!' he gasped. 'You saw me before I got in, Mirlees. I'm not
dreaming, am I?'
'If you are, I am too. You were filthy as any Tibetan. It must be
something in the water.'
I got into one of the other baths, and saw the same startling
purification overtake my own grimy limbs. I am convinced, too, the
water had not only the trick of cleansing like magic, but some strange
healing virtue; it left the body with a sense of supreme comfort, the
skin soft and smooth; and if there was any unpleasant after-effect, I
never observed it, though I used these baths daily from that time on.
As I lay there, the dull throb of my injured ankle melted gradually