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 'And it's so healthy having so many doors and windows,' continued Berengaria. 'That's one of the great advantages of Indian life—you get so much fresh air.'

I hadn't considered the eighteen doors from that point of view before, but, of course, it was undeniable that they did let in the air, though some people might have called it a draught, and again I murmured acquiescence. 'And in case of fire you could hardly fail to make your escape,' Berengaria chatted on, evidently having made it as much a rule to crack up things she had as to run down things like dressing-gowns and sponges that she didn't possess. 'Even in a very bad earthquake you would have an excellent chance,' she added cheerfully. 'You would be much more likely to get out of this room with eighteen doors in it than you would out of an ordinary room with only two or three.' Which, of course, again was true. But talking of earthquakes wasn't exactly comforting to one in my frame of mind, and as I had privately determined to lock up every door securely before going to bed—if I ever had the courage to go—the fact that there were eighteen of them wouldn't count much from an-escape-in-an-earthquake point of view. 'Earthquakes?' I queried as unconcernedly as I could. 'You don't get many of them in Slumpanugger, do you?' Berengaria seemed to hesitate between a desire to be truthful and at the same time not to rob