But when she essayed to remove it from her face she discovered she would need a towel and soap and hot water.
The cabin appeared to be enveloped in a soft, swishing, hollow sound.
It seeped and rustled.

Then the sound lulled, only to rise again.
Carley went to the door, relieved and glad to see that the duststorm was blowing by.

The great sky-high pall of yellow had moved on to the north.

Puffs of dust were whipping along the road, but no longer in one continuous cloud.

In the west, low down the sun was sinking, a dull magenta in hue, quite weird and remarkable.
"I knew I'd get the jolt all right," soliloquized Carley, wearily, as she walked to a rude couch of poles and sat down upon it.