Fong put the chair beside Aunt Ellen's, pressing it into steadiness on the lawn's yielding turf.
"Maybe smoke," he answered. "After earthquake always fire."
Aunt Ellen gave forth a despairing groan.
"Anything more!"
"Don't be afraid," Lorry comforted. "We've the best department in the country. If there should be any fires they'll be put out."
Aunt Ellen took courage from this confident statement and, life running stronger in her, sat up and felt at her head.
"Oh, I've got my pins in, but how was I to take them out? Lorry, do sit down. You're as white as a sheet."
"I'm all right, Aunt Ellen. Don't bother about me. I'm going into the house."
The old lady shrieked and clutched at her skirt.
"No—no, I won't allow it." Then as the girl drew her dress away,
"Lorry Alston, do you want my death on your head as well as your own?
If you want anything let Fong get it. He seems willing and anxious to
risk his life."