'And the drag down my right side. I shan't be able to move in a minute.'

'I can scarcely lift my arm myself,' said Conroy. 'We're in for it.'

'Then why are you so foolish? You know it'll be easier if we have only
one--only one apiece.'

She was lifting the case to her mouth. With tremendous effort Conroy
caught it. The two moved like jointed dolls, and when their hands met it
was as wood on wood.

'You must--not!' said Conroy. His jaws stiffened, and the cold climbed
from his feet up.

'Why--must--I--not?' She repeated the words idiotically.

Conroy could only shake his head, while he bore down on the hand and the
case in it.

Her speech went from her altogether. The wonderful lips rested half over
the even teeth, the breath was in the nostrils only, the eyes dulled,
the face set grey, and through the glove the hand struck like ice.

Presently her soul came back and stood behind her eyes--only thing that
had life in all that place--stood and looked for Conroy's soul. He too
was fettered in every limb, but somewhere at an immense distance he
heard his heart going about its work as the engine-room carries on
through and beneath the all but overwhelming wave. His one hope, he
knew, was not to lose the eyes that clung to his, because there was an
Evil abroad which would possess him if he looked aside by a