All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. The future was not so black. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. 266 She peered up at him.
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