‘Then …’ Lobsang nodded at the little volcano, which was gently smoking, ‘how does that work? It’s on a saucer!’ Lu-Tze stared straight ahead, his lips moving. ‘Page seventy-six, I think,’ he said. Lobsang turned to the page. ‘“Because,”’ he read. ‘Good answer,’ said Lu-Tze, gently caressing a minute crag with a camel-hair brush. ‘Just “Because”, Sweeper? No reason?’ ‘Reason? What reason can a mountain have? And, as you accumulate years, you will learn that most answers boil down, eventually, to “Because”.’
