Once Aldous has made up her mind to leave the train at the next stop, it seems to be a long time in coming. They plunge into a tunnel, or so she assumes; but when the train brakes, she understands that the darkness is open and infinite. The platform floats in a pool of black.
But a decision is a decision. Aldous steps out into the glow of an old lamp, before a bench and a sign that just says 12.
There’s a door. As Aldous walks toward it, a moth pings feebly off the globe one more time, and falls.