Dim loneliness came imperceivably into the fields and he turned back. The birds piped oddly; some wind was caressing the higher foliage, turning it all one way, the way home. Telegraph poles ahead looked like half-used pencils; the small cross on the steeple glittered with a sharp and shapely permanence.
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About A.E. Coppard, Dusky Ruth: And Other Stories
A.E. Coppard, Dusky Ruth: And Other Stories.