12/59 Mr.Lovel descended from the heights of fancy to prosaic fact, and cursed. He perceived that it had grown very dark and lonely. The rain, falling sheer, seemed to shut him into a queer wintry world. All around the land echoed with the steady drum of it, and the rumour of swollen runnels. A wild bird wailed out of the mist and startled Mr.Lovel like a ghost. |