The speed of time, and the hurry of life suddenly rushed upon her again.
"I must hurry," she said. "Or I shan't have lived before I die. I must hurry."
"No 'urry, Jine," said Mrs. Love. "Let's keep in the light for a bit."
"Is this the only light left us, after a deluge of War?" thought Jay. "It doesn't matter, because of course War is hurrying too. Rushing over our heads like the sea over drowned sailors. But it will be over in a minute; this new kind of death must be a temporary death for temporary soldiers. What do fifty years without friends matter? You can hardly breathe before they're done."
She was dazzled and deafened. She had emptied her glass, and she did not know what steps she took to fill it again. Only she found it was suddenly full.
And in a minute she was on the path to the House by the Sea. She had come by a new way.
There was less colour than usual about the sea, a certain air of guilt seemed to haunt the path. And it was extraordinarily lonely, there seemed to be no promise of a Friend waiting at the other end of the path.
She sang the Loud Song to encourage herself, but she did not sing it very loudly.
There is no dream like my dream,
Even in Heaven.
There is no Friend like my Friend,
Even in Heaven.
There is no life like my life,
Even in Heaven.
A voice said, "For 'eaven's sike, Jine, don't begin to sing."