She walked unsteadily toward him and clutched his arm.
"I'm going, too," she said. "I told you I would. I'm a stowaway."
Bennie put his arm around her waist and dragged her to the window.
"Now you're here," he cried hysterically, "just look at that!"
A typhoon of glare and noise was raging outside, roaring down from the tractor through the center of the Ring, and a blinding cloud of dust, illuminated by dazzling yellow light, was driving out and away from the base of the staging in the gigantic circle. The earth below them was completely concealed from view by clouds of vapor, dust, and steam, shot through with phosphorescent gleams that made it look like the mouth of some devilish caldron. From the swiftly spinning disks of the gyroscopes in the control-room came a draft that blew the newspapers off the table. The floor quivered under their feet, and ominous creaking and snapping sounds reverberated through the outer shell, as the beams of the staging were gradually relieved of the weight.
"We'll be clear in a moment!" yelled Bennie in her ear.
She clutched his arm tight.
"Will it hurt?" she asked, almost piteously.
"Not much," he answered. "Hold fast to the rail, and don't bend your knees. We'll be going off with a pretty big acceleration."
The tumult increased in volume, and suddenly there came a crash accompanied by the sound of splintering timbers as the staging collapsed, blown to pieces by the blast. The floor seemed to sink away from beneath their feet.