[Bressant by Julian Hawthorne]@TWC D-Link bookBressant CHAPTER IV 15/21
The invalid water-spout had a hard time of it; it was racked, shaken, and bullied, and continually choked itself with the volubility of its fluent utterances, which were instantly swallowed up in the bottomless depths of the waste-barrel.
A strong, cool, earthy odor rose from the garden, and was wafted past the professor's nostrils, and into the heated house. The moist brown flower-beds exhaled a fragrant thankfulness, and the grass-blades looked twice as green and twice as tall as before. Meanwhile the heavy, regular pulse of the thunder had been beating intermittently overhead, and bounding ponderously from hill-side to hill-side; and ever and anon the lightning had showed startlingly in dazzling zigzags through the omnipresent shadow.
But now it seemed that there was a little less weight in the fall, and gloom in the air.
The pervading freshness of the breeze made itself more unmistakably perceptible.
The west began to lighten, and the rain and darkness drifted to the east.
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