Read "Doomsday" by Warwick Deeping online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Furze was up at half-past four. He made himself some tea, cleared away the bath from the kitchen and went out to see what damage had been done in the garden.
The dawn lay like a grey sheet upon the earth, with a pearling of dew, and a silvering of the grass and the hedgerows. Not a leaf stirred. The freshness of the dawn had the tang of a first kiss, some of its shyness, its chilly tremors. The earth smelt sweet. There would be a fog at sea, and heat to follow, and as he stood in the greyness, wishing that he could change the dew to rain, he heard the dolorous complaining of a ship's siren far away like the crying of some great beast in pain.