was the only person in the world who knew how fine and handsome and smart he was; and July, with all the sense he had, stood looking down at her, his ears drinking up every deceitful word, his eyes swallowing in all her silly town airs. Cinder was as tricky as a fox, no wonder her chin was pointed, but she had no more sense than a sparrow except when it came to making eyes at men.
"July," Mary called sharply, "go fetch in de clothes. It's gwine to rain." A gust of wind lifted a cloud of dust off the ground and sent it into the house. A clap of thunder cracked overhead.
"Good-by, Si May-e," Cinder called out sweetly, and out of the door she went, leaving a cloud of that sweet smell behind her.
July followed her out, but he soon came back with his arms full of clothes which he laid on the bed. "You want me to do anything else?" he asked quietly. The trees were rustling loudly as the wind bent their branches low. Pans flew off the shelf and the papered wall crackled.
Mary was almost ready to cry with impatience. Where were July's senses that he stood asking her what to do when a rain was almost on them. He soon had the cabin closed tight, but it was filled with an awkward silence
