FORE:Naomi felt bored and sick; twice she yawned, and she stretched her tired shoulders under her dress. At last Reuben noticed her discomfort.
FORE:It would be mere politeness to describe as a "taking" Reuben's condition when he heard Richard had gone. He was in a stamping, bellowing, bloodshot rage. He sent for various members of his family, questioned them, stormed at them, sent them away, then sent for them again. He boxed Caro's ears because she criedhitherto he had kept his hands off the girls. As for Tilly, he would have liked to have whipped herhe felt sure that somehow it was all her doingbut the more furious he grew, the more he felt himself abashed by her manner, at once so soft and so determined, and he dared do no more than throw his boots at her.
FORE:He learned to love the moving shadows of clouds[Pg 414] travelling over a sunlit viewto love ridged distances fading from dark bice, through blue, to misty grey. He used to watch for the sparkle of light on far cottage windows, the white sheen of farmhouse walls and the capped turrets of oasts. But he loved best of all to feel the earth under his cheek when he cast himself down, the smell of her teeming sap, the sensation that he lay on a kind breast, generous and faithful. It was strange that the result of all his battles should be this sense of perfect union, this comfort in his loneliness. Reuben was not ashamed at eighty years old to lie full length in some sun-hazed field, and stretch his body over the grass, the better to feel that fertile quietness and moist freshness which is the comfort of those who make the ground their bed.
FORE:Once Handshut was gone, her heart would not pursue him. It was his continual presence that tormented. True, he never sought her out, or persecuted her, or even spoke to her without her speaking firsthe only looked in at the window.... But a woman soon learns what it means to have a man's face between her and the simplicities of life in her garden, between her and the divinities of the stars and moon."I hate these romantic realiststhey're worse than the old-fashioned Zola sort."
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