‘There’s nothing easy about this,’ I said. ‘I’ve no idea what proportion of semi-disabled persons it may be possible for us to support when we come to the end of handy supplies, but I don’t imagine it could be very high.’
‘You’ve made up your mind,’ she said, glancing at me. There might or might not have been a tinge of disapproval in her voice.
‘My dear,’ I said. ‘I don’t like this any more than you do. I’ve put the alternatives baldly before you. Do we help those who have survived the catastrophe to rebuild some kind of life?—or do we make a moral gesture which, on the face of it, can scarcely be more than a gesture? The people across the road there evidently intend to survive.’
She dug her fingers into the earth, and let the soil trickle out of her hand.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ sh
