She thought of Nemesis again, Nemesis wielding an iron flail that never missed its mark.

There was something terrible to her in this perpetual beating of rain.

She had never imagined anything like it.
It was in the dark of the early morning that she began at last to near her destination.

A ten-mile drive through the jungle awaited her, she knew.

She wondered if Monck had made provision for this or if all arrangements would be left in Peter's capable hands.