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Gone to Earth
Mary Webb

Page 1 of 566


GONE TO EARTH 

by Mary Webb 

1917 

[Dedication]
_To him whose presence is home._ 

Chapter 1 

Small feckless clouds were hurried across the vast untroubled
sky--shepherdless, futile, imponderable--and were torn to fragments
on the fangs of the mountains, so ending their ephemeral adventures
with nothing of their fugitive existence left but a few tears. 

It was cold in the Callow--a spinney of silver birches and larches that
topped a round hill.  A purple mist hinted of buds in the tree-tops, and
a fainter purple haunted the vistas between the silver and brown boles.

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