He listened to the thunder of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast; and, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw, he pushed with all his force against the stone. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. “I have been very selfish,” she declared. Men were going hither and thither with barrows, and ladders and ropes, removing the rubbish, and trying to support the tottering habitations. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat.
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