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Adam Bede

Dinah had been speaking at least an hour, and the reddening light of the parting
day seemed to give a solemn emphasis to her closing words. The stranger, who
had been interested in the course of her sermon as if it had been the
development of a drama--for there is this sort of fascination in all sincere
unpremeditated eloquence, which opens to one the inward drama of the
speaker's emotions--now turned his horse aside and pursued his way, while
Dinah said, "Let us sing a little, dear friends"; and as he was still winding down
the slope, the voices of the Methodists reached him, rising and falling in that
strange blending of exultation and sadness which belongs to the cadence of a
hymn.
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