Herbert Joseph Moorhouse, Every Man for Himself
“ Without an instant's pause Phil went leaping over fallen trees and tearing through the undergrowth like one possessed, swearing at the occasional obstruction over which he tripped in the dark.He broke through into the tote road just as the girl's fleeing figure loomed dimly in the twilight."Here, Cristy!" he shouted. "This way. The Saucer! Make for the Saucer! Are you all right?""Yes," she panted. "Oh, Philip,—Svenson—call Svenson!" Neither of them gave thought to the familiar names by which they addressed each other under the stress of the moment. ”
