Perhaps after all it was neither the dog nor the literature, but the heat.

For the heat of that next day was the kind to prey through countries of make-believe.

It oppressed every one, but Ann it seemed to excite, as if it stirred memories in their sleep.

"Don't fight heat, Ann," Katie finally admonished, puzzled and disturbed by the way Ann kept moving about.

"The only way to get ahead of the heat is to give up to it." "Can you always do what you want to do ?" Ann demanded with a touch of petulance.