Night of the Poor

Night of the Poor

Night of the Poor

Night of the Poor

Excerpt

A MILLION ROUND DROPS LAY MOTIONless on the clover in the fields. They hung motionless from the birch leaves, the corn stalks, the barbed-wire fence. And in each one of these million glassy spheres, some no larger than a pinhead, a whole countryside and a whole sky lay minutely reflected-- a late summer countryside still lapped in a caul of stillness, barns, pastures, tin mailboxes and all; a sky still curtained with a fresh gray veil.

Through this gray veil two circular embers now moved slowly along. They felt their way slowly along through the haze; now cautiously hesitating; now turn-

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