“Out of that state of mind--he told a lot about that; it seemed to puzzle him as it does us now--he was startled by a new gale of wind, a close splitting of boards, the shriek of wood parting from wood at his elbow; and then the whole great shield tottered, swayed, resisted, swayed again, and came down over him. He ducked his head. A moment later he discovered that, in falling, the sign had gone into some trees standing close and was held there, in half-tent fashion, so that it protected him from the rain. Then he saw, too, some one clinging to the slanting edge of the shield. He leaped from the car and caught her as she fell. “Her clothes were dripping with water; there was a trickle of blood down one cheek. But she was not unconscious and she struggled in his arms. He made her sit down on the running board of the car. Then he asked if she was hurt and she shook her head. He asked her how she happened to be there back of the sign and she shook her head again. He sat down beside her and watched her. He spoke to me about ‘filling his eyes with her for the rest of his life’--and other things that Eric would not have said normally--or if he had not been--er--infatuated. That was the word, wasn’t it? “They sat there a long time without speaking, and she kept her eyes closed. The wind died away, but the rain persisted--a steady downpour; the green-gray of the storm daylight changed into the black-gray of steady rain. He waited. “When she opened her eyes, he asked again how she happened to be there. After much urging she answered him. “‘They turned me out of the house,’ she said. “‘Turned you out!’ he repeated, incredulously. ‘In this storm! From your home! Why? What had you done?’ “‘I had stopped and looked at you,’ she answered simply. “‘What?’ Eric put force into the word when he spoke it. “‘I had looked at you. Stopped and looked. It was a sin. After that, I could not be allowed to live with those who were not sinners,’ she explained. “‘I never heard of such a thing!’ he told her. ‘Are they crazy?’ “‘The signs tell you. It is their belief. It was a sin to have looked at you--and remembered.’ “Eric’s blood was racing; she had remembered! Looked at him, and remembered. “‘Don’t worry. Just tell me,’ he urged. “She told him. He did not tell me just what she said, but I could guess as I watched the light back in his eyes. Her father had opened the door and put her out in the rain as a wanton. He was very strict--father. As soon as the rain was over she would go to the other end of town where she had a friend who would take her in. No, she did not believe as her father and the people of the town believed; her mother had taken her away and she had been brought up differently, but when the mother had died, he had brought her back. “‘My mother could not bear it here,’ she said. ‘I am not so brave as she, or I would go.’” “Go on,” said Janet again.