They moved slyly toward the woods, they were foxes escaped. Wise foxes sliding away to a hidden earth To a sandy floor, to the warm fawn-flanks of sweet sleep.⁠ ⁠… And then an awful molasses-taffy voice Behind them yelled “Halt!” and “Halt!” and⁠—sudden explosion Of desultory popcorn in iron poppers⁠— Wild running at random⁠—a crash among broken boughs⁠— A fighting sound⁠—Bailey’s voice, half-strangled but clear, “Run like hell, Jack, they’ll never catch you!” He ran like hell.

Time passed like the rain. Time passed and was one with the rain.