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"I was here t'other day." "Were you making that dusty light I saw by now?" "Oh yes, I was beating out some bags. And have you had a good bonfire up there? I saw the light. Why did Miss Vye want a bonfire so bad that she should give you sixpence to keep it up?" "I don't know. I was tired, but she made me bide and keep up the fire just the same, while she kept going up across Rainbarrow way."
I saw a woman on Rainbarrow at dusk looking down towards my house. I think I drew out you before you drew out me." The revived embers of an old passion glowed clearly in Wildeve now; and he leant forward as if about to put his face towards her cheek. "O no," she said, intractably moving to the other side of the decayed fire. "What did you mean by that?" "Perhaps I may kiss your hand?"
"He only said he did like her best, and how he was coming to see her again under Rainbarrow o' nights." "Ha!" cried the reddleman, slapping his hand against the side of his van so that the whole fabric shook under the blow. "That's the secret o't!" The little boy jumped clean from the stool. "My man, don't you be afraid," said the dealer in red, suddenly becoming gentle. "I forgot you were here.
Yeobright's house at Bloom's-End. There was a slight hoarfrost that night, and the moon, though not more than half full, threw a spirited and enticing brightness upon the fantastic figures of the mumming band, whose plumes and ribbons rustled in their walk like autumn leaves. Their path was not over Rainbarrow now, but down a valley which left that ancient elevation a little to the east.
Yeobright certainly studied at home, but he also walked much abroad, and the direction of his walk was always towards some point of a line between Mistover and Rainbarrow. The month of March arrived, and the heath showed its first signs of awakening from winter trance. The awakening was almost feline in its stealthiness.
He knows too much about me, unless he could know more, and so prove to himself that what he now knows counts for nothing. Well, let it be: you must deliver me up to them." "You will think twice before you direct me to do that. Here is a man who has not forgotten an item in our meetings at Rainbarrow: he is in company with your husband.
I have to consider so many things. Fancy Thomasin being anxious to get rid of you! I cannot forget it." "Never mind that. Say Monday week. I will be here precisely at this time." "Let it be at Rainbarrow," said she. "This is too near home; my grandfather may be walking out." "Thank you, dear. On Monday week at this time I will be at the Barrow. Till then good-bye." "Good-bye.
It was a night which led the traveller's thoughts instinctively to dwell on nocturnal scenes of disaster in the chronicles of the world, on all that is terrible and dark in history and legend the last plague of Egypt, the destruction of Sennacherib's host, the agony in Gethsemane. Eustacia at length reached Rainbarrow, and stood still there to think.
The young men were not slow to imitate the example of their elders, and seized the maids; Grandfer Cantle and his stick jigged in the form of a three-legged object among the rest; and in half a minute all that could be seen on Rainbarrow was a whirling of dark shapes amid a boiling confusion of sparks, which leapt around the dancers as high as their waists.
Wildeve attended them to the door, beyond which the deep-dyed upward stretch of heath stood awaiting them, an amplitude of darkness reigning from their feet almost to the zenith, where a definite form first became visible in the lowering forehead of Rainbarrow. Diving into the dense obscurity in a line headed by Sam the turf-cutter, they pursued their trackless way home.
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