"Well, to judge by all the changes," Beatrice suggested thoughtfully,
"it can't have been less than a hundred years. Great Heavens!" and she
burst into a little satiric laugh. "Am _I_ a hundred and twenty-four
years old? Think of that!"

"You underestimate," Stern answered. "But no matter about the time
question for the present; we can't solve it now.

"Neither can we solve the other problem about Europe and Asia and all
the rest of the world. Whether London, Paris, Berlin, Rome, and every
other city, every other land, all have shared this fate, we simply
don't know.

"All we _can_ have is a feeling of strong probability that life, human
life I mean, is everywhere extinct--save right here in this room!

"Otherwise, don't you see, men would have made their way back here
again, back to New York, where all these incalculable treasures seem
to have perished, and--"

He broke short off. Again, far off, they heard a faint re-echoing roar.
For a moment they both sat speechless. What could it be? Some distant
wall toppling down? A hungry beast scenting its prey? They could not
tell. But Stern smiled.

"I guess," said he, "guns will be about the first thing I'll look for,
after food. There ought to be good hunting down in the jungles of
Fifth Avenue and Broadway!