She was tear-stained, but not very wretched now, because for half an hour he had been repeating that she was brave and had saved his life. But a new fear was growing in her mind.
"They are the dogs of the Food Company," she said. "There will be trouble."
"I am afraid so. Very likely they will prosecute us for trespass."
A pause.
"In the old times," he said, "this sort of thing happened day after day."
"Last night!" she said. "I could not live through another such night."
He looked at her. Her face was pale for want of sleep, and drawn and haggard. He came to a sudden resolution. "We must go back," he said.
She looked at the dead dogs, and shivered. "We cannot stay here," she said.
"We must go back," he repeated, glancing over his shoulder to see if the enemy kept their distance. "We have been happy for a time. . . . But the world is too civilised. Ours is the age of cities. More of this will kill us."
"But what are we to do? How can we live there?"
Denton hesitated. His heel kicked against the wall on which he sat. "It's a thing I haven't
