"Well," said Lord John, "if we've got to sit suckin' at those
tubes like so many babies with their bottles, I'm not takin'
any."

"There will be no need for that," Challenger answered. "We have
made arrangements--it is to my wife that you chiefly owe
it--that her boudoir shall be made as airtight as is
practicable. With matting and varnished paper."

"Good heavens, Challenger, you don't suppose you can keep out
ether with varnished paper?"

"Really, my worthy friend, you are a trifle perverse in missing the
point. It is not to keep out the ether that we have gone to such
trouble. It is to keep in the oxygen. I trust that if we can
ensure an atmosphere hyper-oxygenated to a certain point, we may
be able to retain our senses. I had two tubes of the gas and you
have brought me three more. It is not much, but it is
something."

"How long will they last?"

"I have not an idea. We will not turn them on until our symptoms
become unbearable. Then we shall dole the gas out as it is
urgently needed. It may give us some hours, possibly even some
days, on which we may look out upon a blasted world. Our own
fate is delayed to that extent, and we will have the very
singular experience, we five, of being, in all probability, the
absolute rear guard of the human race upon its march into the
unknown. Perhaps you will be kind enough now to give me a hand