little vision out of my geography of the
Arabs in a sand-storm on the desert. I
gathered up my fluttering dress skirt,
held it tight about my head, and lay flat
upon the ground.

It seemed as if a long time passed,
a time in which I knew very little ex-
cept that I was fighting for my breath
as I never had fought for anything.
There were more hurts and bruises
now, but they did not matter. Just to
draw my own breath in my own way
seemed to be the only thing in the
world that was of any account. And
then there was a shaft of flame, an ear-
splitting roar, and the rain was upon
us in sheets, in streams, in visible riv-
ers.

I imagined that it would last a long
time, and wondered in a daze how I
could get home in a rain like that --
for I should have to face it. I could
see that in a few seconds the gutters
had begun to race, the road where I
lay was a stream, and then -- then the
rain ceased. Never was anything so
astonishing. The sky came out blue,
tattered rags of cloud raced across it,