Not a trace nor an echo--not a trace nor an echo--of anything, only parallelograms of darkness in every direction, and our little circle of light flickering on the tombs of Anterus, and Fabianus, and Entychianus, and Epis--martyr--and we three within it, looking at each other.
"If you don't mind," said Dicky, "I would rather not go after them.

I think it's a waste of time.

Personally I am quite contented to have rejoined you.

At one time I thought I shouldn't be able to, and the idea was trying." "We wouldn't _dream_ of letting you go again," said Mrs.Portheris and I simultaneously.

"But," continued Mrs.Portheris, "we will all go in search of the others.