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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"Far from the Madding Crowd"

A fig for such love! Now that I've
taught you a lesson, take your money back again."
"I will not; I will not!" said Boldwood, in a hiss.
"Anyhow I won't have it." said Troy, contemptuously.
He wrapped the packet of gold in the notes, and threw
the whole into the road.
Boldwood shook his clenched fist at him. "You
juggler of Satan! You black hound! But I'll punish
you yet; mark me, I'll punish you yet!"
Another peal of laughter. Troy then closed the
door, and locked himself in.
Throughout the whole of that night Boldwood's dark
downs of Weatherbury like an unhappy Shade in the
Mournful Fields by Acheron.


CHAPTER XXXV

AT AN UPPER WINDOW

IT was very early the next morning -- a time of sun and
dew. The confused beginnings of many birds' songs
spread into the healthy air, and the wan blue of the
heaven was here and there coated with thin webs of
incorporeal cloud which were of no effect in obscuring
day. All the lights in the scene were yellow as to
colour, and all the shadows were attenuated as to form.
The creeping plants about the old manor-house were
bowed with rows of heavy water drops, which had upon
objects behind them the effect of minute lenses of high
magnifying power.


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