It will never be by brigandage--Keenan will never go far enough afield to give him a chance for that.

But I feel it in my bones--I feel that there is danger impending, for us all." Durkin turned and looked at her, wondering if her woman's intuition was to penetrate deeper into the unknown than his own careful analysis.
"What danger ?" he asked.
"Impending dangers cease to be dangers when they can be defined.

It's nothing more than a feeling.

But the strangest part of the whole situation is the fact that not one of us, from any corner of the triangle, dares turn to the police for one jot of protection.

None of us can run crying to the arms of constituted authority when we get hurt!" A consciousness of their lonely detachment from their kind, of their isolation, crept through Durkin's mind.