Explore "Sybil, or the Two Nations" by Benjamin Disraeli on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a wet morning; there had been a heavy rain since dawn, which impelled by a gusty south-wester came driving on a crowd of women and girls who were assembled before the door of a still unclosed shop. Some protected themselves with umbrellas; some sought shelter beneath a row of old elms that grew alongside the canal that fronted the house. Notwithstanding the weather, the clack of tongues was incessant.
"I thought I saw the wicket of the yard gates open," said a woman.