Lucy was again leaning out of window.
She was alone now, and a sorrowful feeling began little by little to overpower her, as though an intense wave of melancholy had mounted up from the howling mob.

Torches still kept passing, shaking out clouds of sparks, and far away in the distance the various bands stretched into the shadows, surging unquietly to and fro like flocks being driven to the slaughterhouse at night.

A dizzy feeling emanated from these confused masses as the human flood rolled them along--a dizzy feeling, a sense of terror and all the pity of the massacres to come.

The people were going wild; their voices broke; they were drunk with a fever of excitement which sent them rushing toward the unknown "out there" beyond the dark wall of the horizon.
"A BERLIN! A BERLIN! A BERLIN!" Lucy turned round.

She leaned her back against the window, and her face was very pale.
"Good God! What's to become of us ?" The ladies shook their heads.