Mary dropped the door-bar. Her brain felt addled, her knees shook, she could not speak a word.
Unex was soaking wet, laden with luggage, a drenched hat pulled over his face. As he staggered toward the fire, each step he took left a puddle of water on the floor. His wet coat and breeches clung tight to his body and he seemed to have no breath left for speaking.
The door swung wide open, pushed back by the wind, and Mary's hands shook so she could hardly shut and bar it again. She hugged Unex and kissed him with many a sob, and he wept with her, but all the time he held fast to a bundle.
"Unex—honey—whe you come from?" She took off his hat and pushed his head back and stroked his thin cheeks. "Whe in Gawd's world is you come from, son? Put you bundle down an' get off dem wet clothes, dey is plastered wid mud."
Unex held tight to his wet bundle with bothhis arms.
"Lawd, I'm glad to git here. I mighty nigh give out back yonder in de big road," he sighed, and bending his head over wiped his wet face on his sleeve.
Mary got up and ran to get him a dry towel.
