[The Golden Scarecrow by Hugh Walpole]@TWC D-Link book
The Golden Scarecrow

PROLOGUE
42/47

It stretched away, like a cloud, vague and indeterminate to the horizon.

To their left a dark brown field rose in an ascending wave to a ridge that cut the sky, now crocus-coloured.

The field was lit with the soft light of the setting sun.

On the ridge of the field something, suspended, it seemed, in midair, was shining like a golden fire.
"What's that ?" said Mr.Pidgen again.

"It's hanging.


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