Till this moment she had never seen or heard from d'Urberville since her departure from Trantridge. ...
2009-10-03
In the afternoon the farmer made it known that the rick was to be finished that night, since there w...
It is the threshing of the last wheat-rick at Flintcomb-Ash Farm. The dawn of the March morning is s...
She plunged into the chilly equinoctial darkness as the clock struck ten, for her fifteen miles' wal...
The appeal duly found its way to the breakfast-table of the quiet Vicarage to the westward, in that ...
At length it was the eve of Old Lady-Day, and the agricultural world was in a fever of mobility such...
During the small hours of the next morning, while it was still dark, dwellers near the highways were...
In a quarter of an hour Clare was leaving the house, whence his mother watched his thin figure as it...
It was evening at Emminster Vicarage. The two customary candles were burning under their green shade...
Meanwhile Angel Clare had walked automatically along the way by which he had come, and, entering his...
Mrs Brooks, the lady who was the householder at The Herons, and owner of all the handsome furniture,...
At eleven o'clock that night, having secured a bed at one of the hotels and telegraphed his address ...
The city of Wintoncester, that fine old city, aforetime capital of Wessex, lay amidst its convex an...
The night was strangely solemn and still. In the small hours she whispered to him the whole story of...