Far From the Madding Crowd
IT was nearly midnight on the eve of St. Thomas`s, the shortest day in the year. A desolating wind wandered from the north over the hill whereon Oak had watched
IT was nearly midnight on the eve of St. Thomas`s, the shortest day in the year. A desolating wind wandered from the north over the hill whereon Oak had watched the yellow waggon and its occupant in the sunshine of a few days earlier.
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