"Good night."
"To-morrow?"
"Rather."
"Good night. Bless you."
"Bless you," she murmured. Then, surprised by herself, she ran through the rain as swift as the shadow of a cloud, while the horse trotted southward with a dreaming passenger.
Chapter XIV: Rain on the Roof
UPSTAIRS in the room she shared with May, Jenny sat before the glass combing her hair, while outside the rain poured down with volume increasing every moment. The wash of water through the black, soundless night, lent the little room, with its winking candle, a comfortable security. The gentle breathing of May and the swish of the hairbrush joined the stream of rain without in a monotone of whisperings that sighed endless round Jenny's vivid thoughts. Suddenly she sprang from her reverie, and, pulling up the blind with a rattle, flung open the window to dip her hands into the wet darkness. May sat up, wild-eyed from sleep. The candle gasped and fluttered.
"Whatever is it?" cried May.
"Oh, Maisie, Maisie," said her sister; "it's raining real kisses to-night. It is, really."
"Have you gone mad?"