It's--it's rainin'." "Raining! It's pouring.

Come in." She took him by the arm and led him through the woodshed and into the kitchen.

She would have led him further, into the sitting- room, but he hung back.
"No, ma'am, no," he said.

"I--I guess I'll stay here, if you don't mind." There was a patter of feet from the sitting-room and Barbara came running, Petunia in her arms.

At the sight of their visitor's lanky form the child's face brightened.
"Oh, Mr.Winslow!" she cried.