[Roderick Hudson by Henry James]@TWC D-Link book
Roderick Hudson

CHAPTER VIII
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It was just noon when Rowland went in, and after roaming about awhile he flung himself in the sun on a mossy stone bench and pulled his hat over his eyes.

The short shadows of the brown-coated cypresses above him had grown very long, and yet he had not passed back through the convent.

One of the monks, in his faded snuff-colored robe, came wandering out into the garden, reading his greasy little breviary.

Suddenly he came toward the bench on which Rowland had stretched himself, and paused a moment, attentively.

Rowland was lingering there still; he was sitting with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.


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