Explore "Tono-Bungay" by H.G. Wells on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I asked her to marry me once again.
It was our last morning together, and we had met very early, about sunrise, knowing that we were to part. No sun shone that day. The sky was overcast, the morning chilly and lit by a clear, cold, spiritless light. A heavy dampness in the air verged close on rain. When I think of that morning, it has always the quality of greying ashes wet with rain.