hair-breadth.

The rest was darkness through which some distant planet spun while
cymbals clashed. (Beyond Farnborough the 10.8 rolls out many empty
milk-cans at every halt.) Then a body came to life with intolerable
pricklings. Limb by limb, after agonies of terror, that body returned to
him, steeped in most perfect physical weariness such as follows a long
day's rowing. He saw the heavy lids droop over her eyes--the watcher
behind them departed--and, his soul sinking into assured peace,
Conroy slept.

Light on his eyes and a salt breath roused him without shock. Her hand
still held his. She slept, forehead down upon it, but the movement of
his waking waked her too, and she sneezed like a child.

'I--I think it's morning,' said Conroy.

'And nothing has happened! Did you see your Men? I didn't see my Faces.
Does it mean we've escaped? Did--did you take any after I went to sleep?
I'll swear I didn't,' she stammered.

'No, there wasn't any need. We've slept through it.'

'No need! Thank God! There was no need! Oh, look!'

The train was running under red cliffs along a sea-wall washed by waves
that were colourless in the early light. Southward the sun rose mistily
upon the Channel.

She leaned out of the window and breathed to the bottom of her lungs,