Now she wants me to take 'em back there." A tremendous gust, driven in from the sea, tore the sweater from the Winslow head and shoulders and wrapped it lovingly about one of the posts in the yard.

Jed did not offer to recover it; he scarcely seemed to know that it was gone.

Instead he stood staring at the express driver, while the rain ran down his nose and dripped from its tip to his chin.
"She--she's goin' back to Luretta Smalley's ?" he repeated.

"She--" He did not finish the sentence.

Instead he turned on his heel and walked slowly back to the shop.