"GO ON," said Cavor, as I sat across the edge of the manhole, and looked down into the
black interior of the sphere. We two were alone. It was evening, the sun had set, and the
stillness of the twilight was upon everything.
I drew my other leg inside and slid down the smooth glass to the bottom of the sphere,
then turned to take the cans of food and other impedimenta from Cavor. The interior was
warm, the thermometer stood at eighty, and as we should lose little or none of this by
radiation, we were dressed in shoes and thin flannels. We had, however, a bundle of thick
woollen clothing and several thick blankets to guard against mischance.
By Cavor's direction I placed the packages, the cylinders of oxygen, and so forth, loosely
about my feet, and soon we had everything in. He walked about the roofless shed for a
time seeking anything we had overlooked, and then crawled in after me. I noted
something in his hand.
"What have you got there? " I asked.
"Haven't you brought anything to read? "
"I forgot to tell you. There are uncertainties - The voyage may last - We may be weeks! "
" We shall be floating in this sphere with absolutely no occupation."
He peered out of the manhole. " Look! " he said. " There's something there!"
I looked out. It was an old number of Tit-Bits that one of the men must have brought.
Farther away in the corner I saw a torn Lloyd's News. I scrambled back into the sphere
with these things. "What have you got? " I said.
I took the book from his hand and read, "The Works of William Shakespeare".
He coloured slightly. "My education has been so purely scientific -" he said
apologetically.
