colors of recent decay,
exhaled a mephitic humidity altogether alien to the snow that fell in
soft, slow flakes. Each hesitated to voice the new fear: had the
sun-ship been destroyed?

By the time they reached the open field, the snow stung their flesh like
sharp needles, but it was not yet thick enough to hide from them a
hideous fact.

The sun-ship was gone.

* * * * *

It might have occupied one of several black, foul areas on the green
grass, where the searching Death Ray had made the very soil putrefy, and
the rocks crumble into shocking dust.

Northwood snatched Athalia to him, too full of despair to speak. A
sudden terrific flurry of snow whirled around them, and they were almost
blown from their feet by the icy wind that tore over the unprotected
field.

"It won't be long," said Athalia faintly. "Freezing doesn't hurt, John,
dear."

"It isn't fair, Athalia! There never would have been such a marriage as
ours. Dr. Mundson searched the world to bring us together."

"For scientific experiment!" she sobbed. "I'd rather die, John. I want
an old-fashioned home, a Black Age family. I want to grow old with you
and leave the earth to my children. Or else I want to die here now under
the kind, white blanket the snow is already spreading over us." She
drooped in his arms.

Clinging together, they stood in the howling wind, looking at each other
hungrily, as though they would snatch from death this one last picture
of the other.

Northwood's freezing lips translated some of the futile words that
crowded against them. "I love you because you are not perfect. I hate
perfection!"

"Yes. Perfection is the only hopeless state, John. That is why Adam
wanted to destroy, so that he might build again."

They were sitting in the snow now, for they were very tired. The storm
began whistling louder, as though it were only a few feet above their
heads.

"That sounds almost like the sun-ship," said Athalia drowsily.

"It's only the wind. Hold your face down so it won't strike your flesh
so cruelly."

"I'm not suffering. I'm getting warm again." She smiled at him sleepily.

* * * * *

Little icicles began to form on their clothing, and the powdery snow
frosted their uncovered hair.

Suddenly came a familiar voice: "_Ach Gott!_"

Dr. Mundson stood before them, covered with snow until he looked like a
polar bear.

"Get up!" he shouted. "Quick! To the