Thomas Hardy,
Desperate Remedies — 2. SIX O'CLOCK P.M.
(1871)
“ It reflected the rays of the sun in a flash from its polished panels as it turned the angle, the spokes of the wheels bristling in the same light like bayonets. The vehicle came nearer, and arrived opposite Owen's door, when the driver pulled the rein and gave a shout, and the panting and sweating horses stopped. ”
