It seemed most unlikely that he would find Lucy in a dark hall with silver pillars.
'All the same,' he said, 'it's not so dark as it was, by long chalks.' It was not.

The silver pillars had begun to give out a faint soft glow like the silver phosphorescence that lies in sea pools in summer time.
'It's lucky too,' he said, 'because of the holes in the floor.' The holes were the spots on the dominoes with which the pillared hall was paved.
'I wonder what part of the city where Lucy is I shall come out at ?' Philip asked himself.

But he need not have troubled.

He did not come out at all.

He walked on and on and on and on and on.