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Life died from the world. People forgot. Stillness, death, loneliness, and destitution. They had picked him to the bone, and left him.... And then, as thoughts like these saddened the thoughts of the two men, there was heard as it were the whir of wings in his old hotel. And the crows came. I say the crows came. They came in their own way; but so they had always come.
True, there were the usual night-sounds of the country the whir of night-birds, the buzzing of insects, the barking of distant dogs, the mellow lowing of far-off kine but these didn't seem to break the stillness, they only intensified it, and added a grewsome melancholy to it into the bargain.
He heard, as he stood there, the whir of a tram from far away at the left, a tram bound to or from Clamart, and the sound brought to his mind what he wished to do. He turned about and began to make his way round the rose-gardens, which were partly enclosed by a low brick wall some two or three feet high.
After another cannon, a three-cushion one to judge by the whir, I argued no more. I had found my ghost and would have given worlds to have escaped from that dak-bungalow. I listened, and with each listen the game grew clearer. There was whir on whir and click on click. Sometimes there was a double click and a whir and another click.
Here it was as if an ocean steamer had suddenly stopped the whir of its wheels at the approach of the pilot come out from shore to tug it in. The wind had stopped blowing. The position was only temporary. Another brakeman taking his place, Seth walked. He was not sorry to walk in this quiet land. How tenderly green the shrubbery was, how beautiful!
After another cannon, a three-cushion one to judge by the whir, I argued no more. I had found my ghost and would have given worlds to have escaped from that dâk-bungalow. I listened, and with each listen the game grew clearer. There was whir on whir and click on click. Sometimes there was a double click and a whir and another click.
In front of it were parked a dozen automobiles of a make that he was unfamiliar with. He heard the whir of machinery and the pounding of hammers, and he went over and peered through one of the windows. The building proved to be a furniture factory. Most of the work was being done by machines, but there were enough tasks left over to keep the owners of the parked cars busily occupied.
To such sounds the Question Chambers of old prisons and palaces must often have echoed. Barton stopped, thrilling with a half-superstitious dread; so moving, in that urban waste, were the accents of pain. Then whir, flap, came the noise again, and again the human note was heard, and was followed by a groan.
And as he gazed, in his mind, comparing, was a vision of all the best of Turkish and South African mohair he had ever seen, and his flock bore the comparison well. It looked good. It looked very good. He rode on. From all about arose the clacking whir of manure- spreaders.
Partridges come over with a whir, but just clearing the top, gliding on extended wings, which to the eye look like a slight brown crescent. The waggoners who go by know that the great hawthorn bastions are favourite resorts of wood-pigeons and missel-thrushes. The haws are ripe in autumn and the ivy berries in spring, so that the bastions yield a double crop.
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