Then you are lost. For the darkness has a terrible voice. You cannot escape it and in a flash it has overwhelmed you. It assails you with memory - of the murder you commmitted yesterday. And it attacks you with foreknowledge - of the murder you'll commit tomorrow. And it presses up a cry in you; unheard fish-cry of the solitary animal, overwhelmed by its own sex. And the cry tears up your face and makes hollows in it full of fear and past danger, that terrify others. So silent is the dreadful darkness-cry of the solitary animal in its own sea.

And it mounts like a flood and rushes on, dark-winged, threatening, like breakers. And hisses wickedly, like foam.

He stood at the end of the world. The cold white arc-lamps were merciless and made everything naked and doleful. But behind them grew a terrible darkness. No black was as black as the darkness round the white lamps of the night-empty platforms.

I see you've got cigarettes, said the girl with the too red mouth in the pale face.

Yes, he said, I have some.

Why don't you come with me, then? she whispered, close.

No, he said, what for?

You don't know what I'm like, she sniffed round about him.

I do, he answered, like them all.

You're a giraffe, big boy, a stubborn giraffe! D'you even know what I look like, eh?

Hungry, he said, naked and painted. Like them all.

You're long and dumb, you giraffe, she giggled close, but you look sweet. And you've cigarettes. Come on, boy, it's dark.

Then he looked at her. All right, he laughed, you get the cigarettes and I kiss you. But if I take hold of your dress, what then?

Then I'll blush, she said, and he thought her grin vulgar.

A freight train yowled through the station. And suddenly tore off. Its miserly, shimmering tail-light oozed away in embarrassment into the darkness. Banging, squeaking, crashing, rumbling - gone. Then he went with her.

You're dying, he screamed.

Dying, she gloated. That'd be something!