She should pack.
Steadily the rain increased.

There was no wind.

The thick veil of wet descended straight from sky to earth, blurring distant outlines, spreading a vast sheen of grey over all the landscape.

Its volume became greater, the prolonged murmuring note took on a deeper tone.

At the gate to the road which led across Dyke's hop-fields toward Guadalajara, Annixter was obliged to descend and raise the top of the buggy.