"They say," said he, "that there's another of those blessed things
fallen there--number two.  But one's enough, surely.  This lot'll cost
the insurance people a pretty penny before everything's settled."  He
laughed with an air of the greatest good humour as he said this.  The
woods, he said, were still burning, and pointed out a haze of smoke to
me.  "They will be hot under foot for days, on account of the thick
soil of pine needles and turf," he said, and then grew serious over
"poor Ogilvy."