“I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened up there before the chimneys came down?”
“No,” she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, “I wasn't frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake.”
“Ah!” he reflected, “that was because you were a stranger. It's odd—they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expects or believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing that always happens. And then, of course, that other affair, which really is serious, startled you the more.”
She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. “I don't know what you mean,” she said icily. “What other affair?”
“Why, the well.”
“The well?” she repeated vacantly.
“Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?”
“No,” said the girl. “He was away; I haven't seen him yet.”
“Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm here for. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it.”
“And is that stoppage so very important?” she said dubiously.