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moans, I was assured of their absolute helplessness and misery in
the glare, and I struck no more of them.

‘Yet every now and then one would come straight towards me,
setting loose a quivering horror that made me quick to elude him.
At one time the flames died down somewhat, and I feared the foul
creatures would presently be able to see me. I was thinking of
beginning the fight by killing some of them before this should
happen; but the fire burst out again brightly, and I stayed my
hand. I walked about the hill among them and avoided them,
looking for some trace of Weena. But Weena was gone.

‘At last I sat down on the summit of the hillock, and watched this
strange incredible company of blind things groping to and fro, and
making uncanny noises to each other, as the glare of the fire beat
on them. The coiling uprush of smoke streamed across the sky, and
through the rare tatters of that red canopy, remote as though they
belonged to another universe, shone the little stars. Two or three
Morlocks came blundering into me, and I drove them off with
blows of my fists, trembling as I did so.

‘For the most part of that night I was persuaded it was a
nightmare. I bit myself and screamed in a passionate desire to
awake. I beat the ground with my hands, and got up and sat down
again, and wandered here and there, and again sat down. Then I
would fall to rubbing my eyes and calling upon God to let me
awake. Thrice I saw Morlocks put their heads down in a kind of
agony and rush into the flames. But, at last, above the subsiding
red of the fire, above the streaming masses of black smoke and the
whitening and blackening tree stumps, and the diminishing
numbers of these dim creatures, came the white light of the day.

‘I searched again for traces of Weena, but there were none. It was
plain that they had left her poor little body in the forest. I cannot
describe how it relieved me to think that it had escaped the awful
fate to which it seemed destined. As I thought of that, I was almost
moved to begin a massacre of the helpless abominations about me,
but I contained myself. The hillock, as I have said, was a kind of
island in the forest. From its summit I could now make out through
a haze of smoke the Palace of Green Porcelain, and from that I
could get my bearings for the White Sphinx. And so, leaving the
remnant of these damned souls still going hither and thither and
moaning, as the day grew clearer, I tied some grass about my feet
and limped on across smoking ashes and among black stems, that
still pulsated internally with fire, towards the hiding-place of the
Time Machine. I walked slowly, for I was exhausted, as well as
lame, and I felt the intensest wretchedness for the horrible death of
little Weena. It seemed an overwhelming calamity. Now, in this
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