The Well-Beloved by Thomas Hardy
page 25 of 244 (10%)
page 25 of 244 (10%)
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fragmentary woodwork, lay a mass of dry netting--a whole sein. Upon
this they scrambled and sat down, through inability to stand upright. 1. V. A CHARGE The rain fell upon the keel of the old lerret like corn thrown in handfuls by some colossal sower, and darkness set in to its full shade. They crouched so close to each other that he could feel her furs against him. Neither had spoken since they left the roadway till she said, with attempted unconcern: 'This is unfortunate.' He admitted that it was, and found, after a few further remarks had passed, that she certainly had been weeping, there being a suppressed gasp of passionateness in her utterance now and then. 'It is more unfortunate for you, perhaps, than for me,' he said, 'and I am very sorry that it should be so.' She replied nothing to this, and he added that it was rather a desolate place for a woman, alone and afoot. He hoped nothing serious had happened to drag her out at such an untoward time. At first she seemed not at all disposed to show any candour on her own affairs, and he was left to conjecture as to her history and name, and how she could possibly have known him. But, as the rain gave not the least sign of cessation, he observed: 'I think we shall have to go back.' |
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