I know what I'm talking about.
Why do I have to explain everything? They're hopeless!"
Mr. Wrenn felt a good wholesome desire to spank her, but he
said, most politely: "You're awful tired. Don't you want to
stay here tonight? Or maybe some other hotel; and I'll stay here."
"No. Don't want to stay any place. Want to get away from
myself," she said, exactly like a naughty child.
So they tramped on again.
Darkness was near. They had plunged into a country which in the
night seemed to be a stretch of desolate moorlands. As they
were silently plodding up a hill the rain came. It came with a
roar, a pitiless drenching against which they fought uselessly,
soaking them, slapping their faces, blinding their eyes. He
caught her arm and dragged her ahead. She would be furious with
him because it rained, of course, but this was no time to think
of that; he had to get her to a dry place.
Istra laughed: "Oh, isn't this great! We're real vagabonds now."
"Why! Doesn't that khaki soak through? Aren't you wet?"
"To the skin!" she shouted, gleefully.
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