For had she not on the loveliest new hat -- a `` creation '' in yellow chiffon with big black choux -- and a dress to match ? And was there not a shower coming straight from the hills across the harbour ? Down at the end of the long resinous avenue the Girl saw the shore road , with the pavilion shutting out the view of the harbour 's mouth . Below the pavilion , clean-shaven George 's Island guarded the town like a sturdy bulldog , and beyond it were the wooded hills , already lost in a mist of rain . `` Oh , I shall be too late , '' moaned the Girl . But she held her hat steady with one hand and ran on . If she could only reach the pavilion in time ! It was a neck-and-neck race between the rain and the Girl , but the Girl won . Just as she flew out upon the shore road , a tall Young Man came pelting down the latter , and they both dashed up the steps of the pavilion together as the rain swooped down upon them and blotted George 's Island and the smoky town and the purple banks of the Eastern Passage from view . The pavilion was small at the best of times , and just now the rain was beating into it on two sides , leaving only one dry corner . Into this the Girl moved . She was flushed and triumphant . The Young Man thought that in all his life he had never seen anyone so pretty . `` I 'm so glad I did n't get my hat wet , '' said the Girl breathlessly , as she straightened it with a careful hand and wondered if she looked very blown and blowsy . `` It would have been a pity , '' admitted the Young Man . `` It is a very pretty hat . '' `` Pretty ! '' The Girl looked the scorn her voice expressed . `` Anyone can have a pretty hat . Our cook has one .
This is a XXXXX . ''
avenue creation hat pity race rain shower times town voice