yet."

"I must know everything. Let me see!"

Now she was at his side, and, like him, staring out into the clear
sunshine, out over the vast expanses of the city.

A moment's utter silence fell. Quite clearly hummed the protest of an
imprisoned fly in a web at the top of the window. The breathing of the
man and woman sounded quick and loud.

"All _wrecked!_" cried Beatrice. "But--then--"

"Wrecked? It looks that way," the engineer made answer, with a strong
effort holding his emotions in control. "Why not be frank about this?
You'd better make up your mind at once to accept the very worst. I see
no signs of anything else."

"The worst? You mean--"

"I mean just what we see out there. You can interpret it as well as
I."

Again the silence while they looked, with emotions that could find no
voicing in words. Instinctively the engineer passed an arm about the
frightened girl and drew her close to him.

"And the last thing I remember," whispered she, "was just--just after
you'd finished dictating those Taunton Bridge specifications. I
suddenly felt--oh, so sleepy! Only for a minute I thought I'd close my