There was no mistaking the direction of that silent, imploring appeal.
Not a man of her countrymen moved, not even black Hath! There was not a sound in the world, it seemed, but the noisy clatter of my own shoenails on the marble flags.

In the great red eye of that unholy globe the Martians glimmered like a picture multitude under the red cliff of their ruined palace.

I glared round at them with contempt for a minute, then sprang forward and snatched the princess up.

It was like pulling a flower up by the roots.

She was stiff and stark when I lay hold of her, but when I tore her from the magic ground she suddenly gave a piercing shriek, and fainted in my arms.
Then as I turned upon my heels with her upon my breast my foot caught upon the cloths still wound about the tripod of the sphere.