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       Thomas Hardy

      The Mayor of Casterbridge

      Historical Novel

      e-artnow, 2021

       Contact: [email protected]

      EAN 4064066383404

      Table of Contents

       Chapter 1.

       Chapter 2.

       Chapter 3.

       Chapter 4.

       Chapter 5.

       Chapter 6.

       Chapter 7.

       Chapter 8.

       Chapter 9.

       Chapter 10.

       Chapter 11.

       Chapter 12.

       Chapter 13.

       Chapter 14.

       Chapter 15.

       Chapter 16.

       Chapter 17.

       Chapter 18.

       Chapter 19.

       Chapter 20.

       Chapter 21.

       Chapter 22.

       Chapter 23.

       Chapter 24.

       Chapter 25.

       Chapter 26.

       Chapter 27.

       Chapter 28.

       Chapter 29.

       Chapter 30.

       Chapter 31.

       Chapter 32.

       Chapter 33.

       Chapter 34.

       Chapter 35.

       Chapter 36.

       Chapter 37.

       Chapter 38.

       Chapter 39.

       Chapter 40.

       Chapter 41.

       Chapter 42.

       Chapter 43.

       Chapter 44.

       Chapter 45.

      Chapter 1.

       Table of Contents

      One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying a child, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick hoar of dust which had accumulated on their shoes and garments from an obviously long journey lent a disadvantageous shabbiness to their appearance just now.

      The man was of fine figure, swarthy, and stern in aspect; and he showed in profile a facial angle so slightly inclined as to be almost perpendicular. He wore a short jacket of brown corduroy, newer than the remainder of his suit, which was a fustian waistcoat with white horn buttons, breeches of the same, tanned leggings, and a straw hat overlaid with black glazed canvas. At his back he carried by a looped strap a rush basket, from which protruded at one end the crutch of a hay-knife, a wimble for hay-bonds being also visible in the aperture. His measured, springless walk was the walk of the skilled countryman as distinct from the desultory shamble of the general labourer; while in the turn and plant of each foot there was, further, a dogged and cynical indifference personal to himself, showing its presence even in the regularly interchanging fustian folds, now in the left leg, now in the right, as he paced along.

      What was really peculiar, however, in this couple’s progress, and would have attracted the attention of any casual observer otherwise disposed to overlook them, was the perfect silence they preserved. They walked side by side in such a way as to suggest afar off the low, easy, confidential chat of people full of reciprocity; but on closer view it could be discerned that the man was reading, or pretending to read, a ballad sheet which he kept before his eyes with some difficulty by

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