Over and over she asked him to come inside and tell her what it was she saw, but he always refused.
"The bottom is beautifully smooth and gray," she exclaimed; "what is that ?" "Sand," said Roland.
"And now it is white, like a piece of pottery," she exclaimed.
"That is white clay," said he.
"Don't you want to take my place," said she, "if you will not come with me ?" "No," said Roland.

"Look down as long as you wish; I know pretty well what you will see for some time to come.

Has there been any change ?" "The bottom is still white," she replied, "but it is glittering." "That is white sand," said he.

"The Artesian well which supplies the works revealed to me long ago the character of the soil at this spot, so that for a hundred feet or more I know what we may expect to see." She came out hurriedly.

"When you begin to speak of wells," she said, "I am frightened.