"You mean volcanic ash?"
"Exactly."
"That explains the white scum I saw in the gutters, driving through the city.... But it isn't altogether a novelty, is it, for the mountain to behave this way?"
"From time to time in the past ten days, Miss Wyndam, Pelée has had a session of grumbling."
"I mean as a usual thing——"
He turned to her abruptly and inquired, "Didn't you know that there hasn't been a sound from Pelée for twenty years before the month of April now ending?"
This gave intimacy to the disorder. Mr. Stock was called away just now, but after dinner that night he joined Paula again on the great veranda.
"Ever been in Pittsburg?" he asked.
"No."
"I've only to shut my eyes in this second-hand air—to think I'm back among the steel mills of the lower Monongahela."