The large one was a backpack, but even though she lumbered awkwardly under its weight, she refused his assistance. They entered through the South Gate, but Will put on his dark glasses and stayed on the busiest of the roads, partly for her sense of safety, partly to avoid passing the Whole Earth again. When she saw that he was wearing the sunglasses, she said mockingly, “Nice! You do know it’s the middle of the night. You look like a complete …” “I have an eye condition. The light troubles me.” “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, temporarily forgetting her anger and fear. As if reminding herself that she had nothing to apologize for, she asked tetchily, “Where are we going anyway? To your squat, I suppose?” “There is no squat. We’re going to church.” She stopped suddenly, so fast that he’d walked a couple of paces before realizing she was no longer with him. He turned and walked back to her and she said with a hint of alarm in her voice, “You’re not a born-again Christian, are you?”
