She turned to the door to open it.
“You can’t,” he said. “The door’s locked.”
“Oscar—what did you do that for?”
“We always did it. Don’t you remember?”
She turned to the door again and shook it; she beat on it with her hands.
“It’s no use, Harriott. If you got out now you’d only have to come back again. You might stave it off for an hour or so, but what’s that in an immortality?”
“Immortality?”
“That’s what we’re in for.”
“Time enough to talk about immortality when we’re dead.... Ah—”
