There are way-stations—even terminals. " "What do you mean?" asked the female, in astonishment. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. I’ve never wanted to get away so much. "Ruth?" Silence for a moment. I don’t see how they can be. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows.
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