I think the Road called him, as it is now calling Dick." She made the admission at last quite simply and quietly.

Yet it was evident to Dewes that it cost her much to make it.
"Yes," he said.

"That is what you fear." She nodded her head and let him understand something of the terror with which the Road inspired her.
"When the trouble began fourteen years ago, when the road was cut and day after day no news came of whether Harry lived or, if he died, how he died--I dreamed of it--I used to see horrible things happening on that road--night after night I saw them.

Dreadful things happening to Dick and his father while I stood by and could do nothing.

Oh, it seems to me a living thing greedy for blood--our blood." She turned to him a haggard face.