And he watched the other man critically.
In a few minutes the train was running through the disgrace of outspread London.

Everybody in the carriage was on the alert, waiting to escape.

At last they were under the huge arch of the station, in the tremendous shadow of the town.

Birkin shut himself together--he was in now.
The two men went together in a taxi-cab.
'Don't you feel like one of the damned ?' asked Birkin, as they sat in a little, swiftly-running enclosure, and watched the hideous great street.
'No,' laughed Gerald.
'It is real death,' said Birkin..