Then the sides of the vestibule seemed to melt together, as do the passages that we see in dreams, the l "O Machine!" she murmured, and caressed her Book, and was comforted. And buried deep in the hive was her own room. Beneath those corridors of shining tiles were rooms, tier below tier, reaching far into the earth, and in each room there sat a human being, eating, or sleeping, or producing ideas. She saw, at the end of the vestibule, the lift in which she had ascended going quietly up and down, empty. The glass valves had closed, she could not go back. She thought the attendant had been unfair, and spasms of rage shook her. Some cabins were better than others, and she did not get the best. Of course a revolving platform ran the length of the boat, but she was expected to walk from it to her cabin. There was even a female attendant, to whom she would have to announce her wants during the voyage. The arrangements were old-fashioned and rough.
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