‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. “Why should it matter?” he said. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene.
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