Excerpt from A Sacrifice at Prato: An Old-Fashioned Narrative
Mists, when I and my companion first trod the dust of a small town which stood in our path. It still lay very hard and white, how ever, and sharply edged to its girdle of olives and mulberry trees drenched in dews,... a com pactly folded town well fortified by strong walls and many towers, with the mist upon it and softly over it like a veil. For it lay well under the shade of the hills awaiting the sun's coming. In the streets, though they were by no means asleep, but, contrariwise, busy with the traffic of men and pack-mules,there was a shrewd bite as of night air; look ing up we could perceive how faint the blue of the sky was, and the cloud-¿aw how rosy yet with the ¿ush of Aurora's beauty-sleep. Therefore we were glad to get into the market-place, filled with people and set round with goodly brick buildings, and to feel the light and warmth steal about our limbs.
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