For six years I was with the company in Montreal, where I went to school." He rose to his feet, tying the flap of his caribou skin coat about his throat.

Then he unbolted and opened the door.

Faintly there came to them, as if from a great distance, the wailing grief of Woonga, the dog.
"You said there was death here," whispered Howland, leaning close to his shoulder.
"There is one who has lived here since the last plague," replied Croisset under his breath.

"He lost his wife and children and it drove him mad.

That is why we came down so quietly.