Читать книгу England have my Bones - T. H. White - Страница 23

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I can’t pretend that I was pleased to leave heaven for the Shire, nor that it was a happy surprise when, after averaging exactly 50 from Glasgow to Carlisle, the car broke down again at Penrith. It sheared the drive between the two magnetos. It was thus by dint of tedious trains and broken-down taxis that I returned to the bosom of my own county, and felt it grow about me indifferently. It made no profuse welcomes. Only, when I slipped into Shireham, the curfew bell was still ringing: as it rings, even in this hurried year of grace, every evening at eight o’clock.