And the rain stung sharply, so that the way to the station was finished at a run.

Then the rain fell faster and harder, and beat slantwise against the windows of the booking office and of the chill place that had General Waiting Room on its door.
"It's like being in a besieged castle," Phyllis said; "look at the arrows of the foe striking against the battlements!" "It's much more like a great garden-squirt," said Peter.
They decided to wait on the up side, for the down platform looked very wet indeed, and the rain was driving right into the little bleak shelter where down-passengers have to wait for their trains.
The hour would be full of incident and of interest, for there would be two up trains and one down to look at before the one that should bring Mother back.
"Perhaps it'll have stopped raining by then," said Bobbie; "anyhow, I'm glad I brought Mother's waterproof and umbrella." They went into the desert spot labelled General Waiting Room, and the time passed pleasantly enough in a game of advertisements.

You know the game, of course?
It is something like dumb Crambo.

The players take it in turns to go out, and then come back and look as like some advertisement as they can, and the others have to guess what advertisement it is meant to be.

Bobbie came in and sat down under Mother's umbrella and made a sharp face, and everyone knew she was the fox who sits under the umbrella in the advertisement.