In that mute glance each looked into the other's soul and was content.

Then he left the conning-tower, and Zaidie dropped on to her knees before the instrument-table and laid her forehead upon her clasped hands.
Her husband went to the saloon, unlocked a little cupboard in the wall and took out a blue bottle of corrugated glass labelled "Morphine, Poison." He took another empty bottle of white glass and measured fifty drops into it.

Then he went to the engine-room and said abruptly: "Murgatroyd, I'm afraid it's all up with us.

We're falling into the Sun, and you know what that means.

In a few hours the _Astronef_ will be red-hot.