THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON
The reader may imagine it best if he will lie on the ground some warm summer's night and look between his upraised feet at the moon, but for some reason, probably because the absence of air made it so much more luminous, the moon seemed already considerably larger than it does from earth. The minutest details of its surface were acutely clear. And since we did not see it through air, its outline was bright and sharp; there was no glow or halo about it and the star-dust that covered the sky came right to its very margin and marked the outline of its illuminated part. And as I stood and stared at the moon between my feet, that perception of the impossible that had been with me off and on ever since our start returned again with tenfold conviction.
"Cavor," I said, "this takes me queerly. Those companies we were going to run and all that about minerals———"
"Well?"
"I don't see 'em here."
"No," said Cavor, "but you'll get over all that."
"I suppose I'm made to turn right side up again. Still this— For a moment I could half believe there never was a world."
"That copy of Lloyds' News might help you."
I stared at the paper for a moment, then held it above the level of my face and found I could read it quite easily. I struck a column of mean little advertisements. "A gentleman of private means is willing to lend money," I read. I knew that gentleman. Then somebody eccentric wanted to sell a Cutaway bicycle, "quite new and cost £15," for
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