And so ends the cruelest of all months because when it rains, it pours.
Not a fine misty drizzle, mind you, but a good gracious, honest-to-God torrential downpour. The kind that uproots Kansas clapboard farmhouses and whirl them around into the land of Frank Baum. With things falling out of the sky and people scattered about, running for dear life. Even the Hamilton girls, Edith and Margaret, flee, unsure whether their previous stations grant both or the other immunity.
Though it did begin tamely, purring like a kitten asleep at first. That might well explain its eventual fury.