Chapter 5

           AsIstoodtheremusingoverthistooperfecttriumphofman,thefullmoon,yellowandgibbous,cameupoutofanoverflowofsilverlightinthenorth-east. Thebrightlittlefiguresceasedtomoveaboutbelow,anoiselessowlflittedby,andIshiveredwiththechillofthenight. IdeterminedtodescendandfindwhereIcouldsleep. 

           ‘IlookedforthebuildingIknew. ThenmyeyetravelledalongtothefigureoftheWhiteSphinxuponthepedestalofbronze,growingdistinctasthelightoftherisingmoongrewbrighter. Icouldseethesilverbirchagainstit. Therewasthetangleofrhododendronbushes,blackinthepalelight,andtherewasthelittlelawn. Ilookedatthelawnagain. Aqueerdoubtchilledmycomplacency. "No,"saidIstoutlytomyself,"thatwasnotthelawn." 

           ‘Butitwasthelawn. Forthewhiteleprousfaceofthesphinxwastowardsit. CanyouimaginewhatIfeltasthisconvictioncamehometome?Butyoucannot. TheTimeMachinewasgone! 

           ‘Atonce,likealashacrosstheface,camethepossibilityoflosingmyownage,ofbeinglefthelplessinthisstrangenewworld. Thebarethoughtofitwasanactualphysicalsensation. Icouldfeelitgripmeatthethroatandstopmybreathing. InanothermomentIwasinapassionoffearandrunningwithgreatleapingstridesdowntheslope. OnceIfellheadlongandcutmyface;Ilostnotimeinstanchingtheblood,butjumpedupandranon,withawarmtrickledownmycheekandchin. AllthetimeIranIwassayingtomyself: "Theyhavemoveditalittle,pusheditunderthebushesoutoftheway." Nevertheless,Iranwithallmymight. Allthetime,withthecertaintythatsometimescomeswithexcessivedread,Iknewthatsuchassurancewasfolly,knewinstinctivelythatthemachinewasremovedoutofmyreach.