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 to discuss the question of the furnaces over some trivial refreshment.

I repeated my suggestion of getting back to my bungalow, and this time he understood. We clung arm in arm and started, managing at last to reach the shelter of as much roof as was left to me. For a space we sat in arm-chairs and panted. All the windows were broken and the lighter articles of furniture were in great disorder, but no irrevocable damage was done. Happily the kitchen door had stood the pressure upon it, so that all my crockery and cooking materials had escaped damage. The oil-stove was still burning and I put on the water to boil again for tea. That prepared, I could turn to Cavor for his explanation.

"Quite correct," he insisted; "quite correct. I've done it, and it's all right."

"But—" I protested. "All right! Why, there can't be a rick standing, or a fence or a thatched roof undamaged for twenty miles round"

"It's all right—really. I didn't, of course, foresee this little upset. My mind was preoccupied with another problem, and I'm apt to disregard these practical side issues. But it's all right"

"My dear sir," I cried, "don't you see you've done thousands of pounds' worth of damage?"

"There, I throw myself on your discretion. I'm not a practical man, of course, but don't you think they will regard it as a cyclone?"

"But the explosion"

"It was not an explosion. It's perfectly simple. Only, as I say, I'm apt to overlook these little things.