Everywhere there were bodies, legs, boots, arms, heads, sudden caps, sudden fingers, sudden hot and streaming breaths.

And over everything this infernal noise and yet no human sound.

A nightmare of the true nightmare of dreams.

The open silver spaces, the little gardens thick with flowers, the high moon and the starry sky, not a living soul to be seen--and nevertheless watchers everywhere.

"Step forward on to that little plot of grass in front of the cottage windows and you're a dead man"-- the moonlight said.