Guide to Re-reading Hardy

From the Madding Crowd

There’s one café that still welcomes smokers. The house ale pours mahogany. In the glass a mist sifts up before settling like a frail collar, lacy at the lip.

It will all happen. There’s no stopping it.

To staunch the draft, the owners have cloaked the vestibule around the door with a wool drape. When the door swings open, a gust erupts with a cough of snow, abrupt and cold.

Collar. Color. Coral. A rhapsody of coal smoke engulfs the crowd.

It's easy to read things wrong first time around.
Love can make it maddening.

others in this series: Tess, Jude