Chapitre 217: Chapter 186 Panic and Countermeasures

"My dear, are all the nails hammered in?"

The voice of his wife startled Geiszler from his reverie, and he hurriedly called out from under the eaves, "Oh, it's all done; you can start laying the straw now."

His gaze fleetingly caught the scar on her forehead, a remnant from the hailstorm, when fragmented wood from the broken roof had gashed her. Fortunately, the wound wasn't deep, and she and the children had taken refuge under a dining table, narrowly escaping disaster.

Lady Geiszler tied up a large bundle of thatch with a rope, watching as her husband dragged it up onto the roof and spread it out bit by bit.

By noon, the roof of the Geiszler home was more or less restored to its former state.

Geiszler, wiping the sweat from his forehead, entered the house and saw his wife come out from the inner room, placing on the table a plate that was missing a large chip—their most intact plate—and summoned him with a smile, "Tired, aren't you? Have something to eat."