“Stephen,” she cried, “you’ve got to hurry!”
He could only admire the way her smooth honey hair waved to her shoulders.
“Oh, darling!” she said, “you’ve been hurt!” Her quick gentle hands touched his legs and back. Crane nodded.
“Got it landing,” he said. “I wasn’t used to a parachute. I always thought you came down gently—like plumping onto a bed. But the gray earth came up at me like a fist—And Umber was fighting around in my arms. I couldn’t let him drop, could I?”
“Of course not, dear—” Evelyn said.
“So I just held on to him and tried to get my legs under me,” Crane said. “And then something smashed my legs and side—”
He paused, wondering how much she knew of what really had happened. He didn’t want to frighten her.
“Evelyn, darling—” he said, trying to reach up his arms. “No dear,” she said. She looked back in fright. “You’ve got to hurry. You’ve got to watch out behind!”
“The cinder storms?” He grimaced. “I’ve been through them before.”
“Not the storms!” Evelyn cried. “Something else. Oh, Stephen—”