" "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. She answered weakly, “I’m fine, John. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way.
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