A
veil of mist covered the November sky; a many folded veil, so fine-meshed that
it made one density. It was not raining, but here and there the mist condensed
on the surface into dampness and made pavements greasy. Here and there on a
grass blade or on a hedge leaf a drop hung motionless. It was windless and
calm. Sounds coming through the veil--the bleat of sheep, the croak of
rooks--were deadened. The uproar of the traffic merged into one growl. Now and
then as if a door opened and shut, or the veil parted and closed, the roar
boomed and faded.
The Years (286)
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