And as the day advanced and the engine drivers and stokers refused to return to London
I shouted above the sudden noise. She looked away from me downhill. The people were coming out of their houses, astonished.
We can’t possibly stay here, I said; and as I spoke the firing reopened for a moment upon the common.
The nearer moon, hurtling suddenly above the horizon and lighting up the Barsoomian scene, showed me that my preserver was Woola.