But none can deliver us.

There is no hope.

There is nothing good but sleep.

And of that we have never enough.' 'Oh, dear,' said Lucy despairingly, 'aren't there any women here?
They always have more sense than men.' 'What you say is rude as well as untrue,' said the red leader; 'but to avoid fuss we will lead you and your fierce dog to the huts of the women.

And then perhaps you will allow us to go to sleep.' The huts were poor and mean, little fenced-in corners in the ruins of what had once been a great and beautiful city, with gardens and streams; but now the streams were dry and nothing grew in the gardens but weeds and pine-apples.
But the women--who all wore green tunics of the same stiff shape as the men's--were not quite so sleepy as their husbands.