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She
liked
even
less
what
awaited
her
at
the
entrance
to
the
pueblo
,
where
their
guide
had
left
them
while
he
went
inside
for
instructions
.
The
dirt
,
to
start
with
,
the
piles
of
rubbish
,
the
dust
,
the
dogs
,
the
flies
.
Her
face
wrinkled
up
into
a
grimace
of
disgust
.
She
held
her
handkerchief
to
her
nose
.
"
But
how
can
they
live
like
this
?
"
she
broke
out
in
a
voice
of
indignant
incredulity
.
(
It
wasn
’
t
possible
.
)
Bernard
shrugged
his
shoulders
philosophically
.
"
Anyhow
,
"
he
said
,
"
they
’
ve
been
doing
it
for
the
last
five
or
six
thousand
years
.
So
I
suppose
they
must
be
used
to
it
by
now
.
"
"
But
cleanliness
is
next
to
fordliness
,
"
she
insisted
.
"
Yes
,
and
civilization
is
sterilization
,
"
Bernard
went
on
,
concluding
on
a
tone
of
irony
the
second
hypnopædic
lesson
in
elementary
hygiene
.
"
But
these
people
have
never
heard
of
Our
Ford
,
and
they
aren
’
t
civilized
.
So
there
’
s
no
point
in
.
.
.
"
"
Oh
!
"
She
gripped
his
arm
.
"
Look
.
"
An
almost
naked
Indian
was
very
slowly
climbing
down
the
ladder
from
the
first
-
floor
terrace
of
a
neighboring
house
–
rung
after
rung
,
with
the
tremulous
caution
of
extreme
old
age
.
His
face
was
profoundly
wrinkled
and
black
,
like
a
mask
of
obsidian
.
The
toothless
mouth
had
fallen
in
.
At
the
corners
of
the
lips
,
and
on
each
side
of
the
chin
,
a
few
long
bristles
gleamed
almost
white
against
the
dark
skin
.
The
long
unbraided
hair
hung
down
in
grey
wisps
round
his
face
.
His
body
was
bent
and
emaciated
to
the
bone
,
almost
fleshless
.
Very
slowly
he
came
down
,
pausing
at
each
rung
before
he
ventured
another
step
.
"
What
’
s
the
matter
with
him
?
"
whispered
Lenina
.
Her
eyes
were
wide
with
horror
and
amazement
.
"
He
’
s
old
,
that
’
s
all
,
"
Bernard
answered
as
carelessly
as
he
could
.
He
too
was
startled
;
but
he
made
an
effort
to
seem
unmoved
.
"
Old
?
"
she
repeated
.
"
But
the
Director
’
s
old
;
lots
of
people
are
old
;
they
’
re
not
like
that
.
"
