She put out a hand and touched stones and earth; then the long harsh stalks of the grass: then her fingers met something cold, damp, unyielding, and yet in some indescribable way alive. She felt the withdrawal, the shrinking of the stone and had snatched back her hand before the Thing cried out. For, as if her touching it had set off some alarm, suddenly the air all around her was filled with a vibration, a savage horrifying roar of fear and hate, which Marianne could feel beating against her eardrums and temples, but yet could not hear as she could hear the savage hiss of the grass rising to
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