“You’ve both lost your wits,” Athos declares. He hasn’t the slightest idea what this ‘yoga’ business might be, and isn’t sure he wishes to find out - though he suspects he will, by and by.

He pours some of the milk into the coffee, unsure how much would be necessary to cut the drink’s bitterness. Under that initial, unsatisfying sharpness, he had tasted something surprising, even wondrous, which he will not be easily forgetting. But as he lifts the spoon from the sugar bowl, he pauses. “Where does all this come from?"