But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. “I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. It took her only two towns away, near the Arby’s where Mike worked. Never mind. This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked.
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