Something waited for Bent on the other side of the horizon: something with a soundless voice called to him. I thought of that every time I saw him alone on the deck of our schooner, as he watched the sea with brooding, unsatisfied eyes, his face a dark pool of intensity, every splinter of thought reflected there like a dart of light. I don’t know where it might have ended, but it doesn’t matter now; Harvey Wolfe saw to that, Harvey and his wife Lorry.
When they’d piled into the waiting car, Vologin had said, “We should have shot her, too. She’ll give them our description.”But Katov had said nothing. He’d thought how odd it was that he’d just killed a man, and then immediately had bumped into a woman who was bringing a new life into the world. I suppose that’s what makes the balance, he’d thought. But Vologin had been right. They should have killed her.
“It’s all right, hon. Jimmy thinks he saw a snake” (and even before he finished he saw the apprehension come into her eyes and he knew his intuition had been right all along--that it was going to be bad; because fear, he supposed, was atavistic in all women. All the way back to the dim females of the caves it had been kids and accidents, kids and sickness, or husbands and wars, husbands and heart attacks) “go down in our basement.”There was a pause as she stared at his eyes, as she took in breath to say it with a rush. And in that brief moment they were the only two people there - man and wife, parents.“Peggy’s down there.”