Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. She laughed a little contemptuously. Wood could stand it no longer. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you. His eyes were bright with the hunt.
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