The Souls of Black Folk · ¶453
Amid the trees in the dim morning twilight he watched their shadows dancing and heard their horses thundering toward him, until at last they came sweeping like a storm, and he saw in front that haggard white-haired man, whose eyes flashed red with fury. Oh, how he pitied him,—pitied him,—and wondered if he had the coiling twisted rope. Then, as the storm burst round him, he rose slowly to his feet and turned his closed eyes toward the Sea.Read in context ›
Project Gutenberg ebook 408
Project Gutenberg ebook 408
Passage preview. Read in context for the complete text, notes and references.