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Edward Thomas
The Heart of England
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7181090The Heart of Englandhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-heart-of-england-9781219412286/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6722040/image.jpg?v=6387007668520000002020MXNPrabhat PrakashanInStock/Ebooks/<p>The old man was small and straight, and to his thin figure the remains of a long black coat and grey trousers adhered with singular grace. You could not say that he was well dressed, but rather that he was in the penultimate stage of a transformation like Dryopes or Daphnes, which his pale face had not altogether escaped. His neglected body seemed to have grown this grey rind that flapped like birch bark. Had he been born in it the clothing could not have been more apt. The eye travelled from these clothes with perfect satisfactionas from a branch to its fruitto his little crumpled face and its partial crust of hair. Yet he walked. One hand on a stick, the other beneath a basket of watercress, he walked with quick, short steps, now and then calling out unexpectedly, as if in answer to a question, Watercresses! No one interrupted him. He was hungry; he nibbled at pieces of cress with his gums, and so kneaded his face as if it had been dough. He passed the boy; he stooped, picked up a rotten apple, and in the act frightened the pigeon, which rose, as the boy saw, and disappeared.</p>...6836284The Heart of England2020https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-heart-of-england-9781219412286/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/6722040/image.jpg?v=638700766852000000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20099781219412286_W3siaWQiOiJjNWU4NGZhYS02MzA5LTQxZWUtOTI3ZC03ZjNiYmJlNjUwZTYiLCJsaXN0UHJpY2UiOjEyLCJkaXNjb3VudCI6MCwic2VsbGluZ1ByaWNlIjoxMiwiaW5jbHVkZXNUYXgiOnRydWUsInByaWNlVHlwZSI6Ildob2xlc2FsZSIsImN1cnJlbmN5IjoiTVhOIiwiZnJvbSI6IjIwMjQtMTItMTdUMTU6MDA6MDBaIiwicmVnaW9uIjoiTVgiLCJpc1ByZW9yZGVyIjpmYWxzZX1d9781219412286_<p>The old man was small and straight, and to his thin figure the remains of a long black coat and grey trousers adhered with singular grace. You could not say that he was well dressed, but rather that he was in the penultimate stage of a transformation like Dryopes or Daphnes, which his pale face had not altogether escaped. His neglected body seemed to have grown this grey rind that flapped like birch bark. Had he been born in it the clothing could not have been more apt. The eye travelled from these clothes with perfect satisfactionas from a branch to its fruitto his little crumpled face and its partial crust of hair. Yet he walked. One hand on a stick, the other beneath a basket of watercress, he walked with quick, short steps, now and then calling out unexpectedly, as if in answer to a question, Watercresses! No one interrupted him. He was hungry; he nibbled at pieces of cress with his gums, and so kneaded his face as if it had been dough. He passed the boy; he stooped, picked up a rotten apple, and in the act frightened the pigeon, which rose, as the boy saw, and disappeared.</p>...9781219412286_Prabhat Prakashanlibro_electonico_9781219412286_9781219412286Edward ThomasInglésMéxicohttps://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/prabhatbooks-epub-e2e9e3cd-3fde-4c6f-babe-ae312345dc1e.epub2009-12-15T00:00:00+00:00Prabhat Prakashan