Leave me, then, if you don't love me enough to follow me."
He followed her, however, pressed close beside her, and sought to shelter
her a little from the slanting rain. And it was a wild, mad race on the
part of that young couple, almost linked together, their elbows touching
as they sped on and on, as if lifted from the ground, carried off by all
that rushing, howling water which poured down so ragefully. It was as
though a thunder-blast bore them along. But at the very moment when they
sprang from their bicycles in the yard of the farm the rain ceased, and
the sky became blue once more.
Rose was laughing like a lunatic, and looked very flushed, but she was
soaked to such a point that water streamed from her clothes, her hair,
her hands. You might have taken her for some fairy of the springs who had
overturned her urn on herself.
"Well, the fete is complete," she exclaimed breathlessly. "All the same,
we are the first home."
She then darted upstairs to comb her hair and change her gown. But to
gain just a few minutes, eager as she was to cook the crawfish, she did
not take the trouble to put on dry linen. She wished the pot to be on the
fire with the water, the white wine, the carrots and spices, before the
family arrived.
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