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"
Run
back
!
"
came
the
voice
,
"
and
jump
and
I
'll
catch
your
hand
--
no
,
not
there
--
on
the
other
side
.
"
He
followed
directions
and
as
he
sprawled
up
the
side
,
knee-deep
in
hay
,
a
small
,
white
hand
reached
out
,
gripped
his
,
and
helped
him
onto
the
top
.
"
Here
you
are
,
Juan
,
"
cried
she
of
the
damp
hair
.
"
Do
you
mind
if
I
drop
the
Don
?
"
"
You
've
got
a
thumb
like
mine
!
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
And
you
're
holding
my
hand
,
which
is
dangerous
without
seeing
my
face
.
"
He
dropped
it
quickly
.
As
if
in
answer
to
his
prayers
came
a
flash
of
lightning
and
he
looked
eagerly
at
her
who
stood
beside
him
on
the
soggy
haystack
,
ten
feet
above
the
ground
.
But
she
had
covered
her
face
and
he
saw
nothing
but
a
slender
figure
,
dark
,
damp
,
bobbed
hair
,
and
the
small
white
hands
with
the
thumbs
that
bent
back
like
his
.
"
Sit
down
,
"
she
suggested
politely
,
as
the
dark
closed
in
on
them
.
"
If
you
'll
sit
opposite
me
in
this
hollow
you
can
have
half
of
the
raincoat
,
which
I
was
using
as
a
water-proof
tent
until
you
so
rudely
interrupted
me
.
"
"
I
was
asked
,
"
Amory
said
joyfully
;
"
you
asked
me
--
you
know
you
did
.
"
"
Don
Juan
always
manages
that
,
"
she
said
,
laughing
,
"
but
I
sha
n't
call
you
that
any
more
,
because
you
've
got
reddish
hair
.
Instead
you
can
recite
'
Ulalume
'
and
I
'll
be
Psyche
,
your
soul
.
"
Amory
flushed
,
happily
invisible
under
the
curtain
of
wind
and
rain
.
They
were
sitting
opposite
each
other
in
a
slight
hollow
in
the
hay
with
the
raincoat
spread
over
most
of
them
,
and
the
rain
doing
for
the
rest
.
Amory
was
trying
desperately
to
see
Psyche
,
but
the
lightning
refused
to
flash
again
,
and
he
waited
impatiently
.
Good
Lord
!
supposing
she
was
n't
beautiful
--
supposing
she
was
forty
and
pedantic
--
heavens
!
Suppose
,
only
suppose
,
she
was
mad
.
But
he
knew
the
last
was
unworthy
.
Here
had
Providence
sent
a
girl
to
amuse
him
just
as
it
sent
Benvenuto
Cellini
men
to
murder
,
and
he
was
wondering
if
she
was
mad
,
just
because
she
exactly
filled
his
mood
.
