Something "Wrong"; Something "Right"

        It was, indeed, as though this, the very first of the strange scenes I was to witness in the land of Moribundia, had been specially prepared for me – so arranged that the members of the community were spread out before me, for my benefit, as it were, in a state of absolute naturalness and unself-consciousness, and so absorbed in their own rites that a stranger could move among them with less conspicuousness than a ghost.

 
        I knew at once that I must seize this moment – drink in these unspoiled impressions while I could and keeping close to the trees, I began to circle slowly, but without stealth in the direction of the pavilion.  

          It was not until I passed the second or third group of boys lying sprawled across the grass that I became aware that something was ‘wrong’ – had my first intimation, in other words, that this world  into which I had come had certain physical characteristics and peculiarities which differed, however faintly, from those in the world from which I had come.   There was, in fact, something ‘wrong’ about these boys  themselves.  And this something ‘wrong’ derived from the fact that there was something much too ‘right’ about them.