Winefred S. Baring-gould Author
by S. Baring-gould
2021-04-11 18:02:52
Winefred S. Baring-gould Author
by S. Baring-gould
2021-04-11 18:02:52
One grey, uncertain afternoon in November, when the vapour-laden skies were without a rent, and the trailing clouds, without a fringe, were passing imperceptibly into drizzle, that thickened with coming night, when the land was colourless, and the ea...
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One grey, uncertain afternoon in November, when the vapour-laden skies were without a rent, and the trailing clouds, without a fringe, were passing imperceptibly into drizzle, that thickened with coming night, when the land was colourless, and the earth oozed beneath the tread, and the sullen sea was as lead—on such a day, at such a time of day, a woman wandered through Seaton, then a disregarded hamlet by the mouth of the Axe, picking up a precarious existence by being visited in the summer by bathers.The woman drew her daughter about with her. Both were wet and bedraggled.
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