She and I had been invited to the glass house in the Grenadines for the holidays. Doors and windows were open, admitting the sea breeze. Brilliant sunlight flooded the dining room. Millions of earthquakes occur each year, Henry said, though only a million and a half or so are recorded. Those registering from 8 to 8.9 on the Richter scale, called great earthquakes, had in the past occurred at a rate of one a year. Every twenty years or so, a great quake measuring between 9 and 9.9 was detected by seismographs. No quake as strong as 10 on the Richter scale had ever been recorded. “So what is your estimate of the force of the ultimate earthquake you predict, should it actually occur?” Clementine asked. Her eyes shone. She was an interrogator by nature and training, and therefore she loved questioning Henry, who came as close to having all the answers as anyone since Euclid. “Conceivably, 20 or more on the Richter scale,”
