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"
Where
are
we
?
"
"
How
should
I
know
?
"
"
Are
we
dead
?
"
"
What
nonsense
!
"
"
They
've
got
us
,
then
!
"
He
made
no
answer
but
a
grunt
.
The
lingering
traces
of
the
poison
seemed
to
make
him
oddly
irritable
.
"
What
do
you
mean
to
do
?
"
"
How
should
I
know
what
to
do
?
"
"
Oh
,
very
well
!
"
said
I
,
and
became
silent
.
Presently
,
I
was
roused
from
a
stupor
.
"
O
Lord
!
"
I
cried
;
"
I
wish
you
'd
stop
that
buzzing
!
"
We
lapsed
into
silence
again
,
listening
to
the
dull
confusion
of
noises
like
the
muffled
sounds
of
a
street
or
factory
that
filled
our
ears
.
I
could
make
nothing
of
it
,
my
mind
pursued
first
one
rhythm
and
then
another
,
and
questioned
it
in
vain
.
But
after
a
long
time
I
became
aware
of
a
new
and
sharper
element
,
not
mingling
with
the
rest
but
standing
out
,
as
it
were
,
against
that
cloudy
background
of
sound
.
It
was
a
series
of
relatively
very
little
definite
sounds
,
tappings
and
rubbings
,
like
a
loose
spray
of
ivy
against
a
window
or
a
bird
moving
about
upon
a
box
.
We
listened
and
peered
about
us
,
but
the
darkness
was
a
velvet
pall
.
