3. THE GROPING CITYI left the pub door swinging behind me as I made my way to the corner of the main road. There I hesitated.
To the left, through miles of suburban streets, lay the open country; to the right, the West End of London, with the City beyond. I was feeling somewhat restored, but curiously detached now, and rudderless. I had no glimmering of a plan, and, in the face of what I had at last begun to perceive as a vast and not merely local catastrophe, I was still too stunned to begin to reason one out. What plan could there be to deal with such a thing? I felt forlorn, cast into desolation, and yet not quite real, not quite myself here and now.
In no direction was there any traffic, nor any sound of it. The only signs of life were a few people here and there cautiously groping t
