Callandar felt that if he could only let its sweetness stream indefinitely over his closed eyes it would wash away the blindness and the ache.

Perhaps-- "I am afraid I cannot allow you to use this pump!" said a crisp voice primly.

"This is not," with capital letters, "a Public Pump!" Callandar wiped the surplus water from his face and looked up.

There, beside him in the yellow haze of his semi-blindness, stood the owner of the voice.

She appeared to be clothed in white, tall and commanding.
Surrounded by the luminous mist, her appearance was not unlike that of a cool and capable avenging angel.
"This pump," went on the angel with nice precision, "is not for the use of pedestrians." "Ah!" said the pedestrian.
"If you will continue down the road," the voice went on, "you will find, when you reach the town, a public pump.