Explore "That Lass o' Lowrie's" by Frances Hodgson Burnett on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The moon was shining brightly when he stepped into the open road -- so brightly that he could see every object far before him unless where the trees cast their black shadows, which seemed all the blacker for the light. "What a grave little creature she is! " he was saying to himself. But he stopped suddenly; under one of the trees by the roadside some one was standing motionless; as he approached, the figure stepped boldly out into the moonlight before him. It was a woman.
"Dunnot be afeard," she said, in a low, hurried voice. "It's me, mester -- it's Joan Lowrie."