Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"And that was the reason for sailing which he gave you?" said Captain Acton. This was said by Lady Larmont, the widow[Pg 158] of an East India Director, who had achieved a reputation for beneficence in the district without spending very much money. "Rejected, but she has a hankering for him still," said the old lady with one of those smiles of knowingness which make the lineaments[Pg 200] ghastly when bitter sorrow and tragic trouble are the topics talked about..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"What has become of her?" cried Miss Acton, sinking suddenly into her tremulous voice and into a manner of alarm, bewilderment, and general confusion of mind. "What shall you do to find out?"I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
"Is it re'lly?" she returned with sarcasm. "I wasn't sure. I thort maybe it was a fish-line, or a jack-knife. Now what do you think of your precious son?" she demanded.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"What brings that old man here peering and mopping and mowing? Has he heard of your appointment? I wish he may not be hatching some scheme, planning some design to end this, your fortunate command, by arresting you unless you pay him up in full." "Likely. Now I move we go right over into that ha'nted grove. What you say?" With that, and looking round about her with insane cunning glittering in her eyes as diamonds tremble in the dancer's ear, as though she feared she might be watched by another in that berth, albeit her manner persuaded Mr Lawrence that she did not know he was looking on, she went to the locker, lifted the lid and disclosed her treasure-hidings of rings, soap, and the rest of it, looking up meanwhile as though into the face of a person who was bending a little to catch a sight of that nest of feathers, but looking up with such marvellous vitality in the composition of her lineaments, and in the penetrating glare of those eyes of hers which in hours of repose and content seemed to brood upon what they viewed, that Mr Lawrence could almost swear that he beheld the spectral shadow of the Royal apparition into whose face she gazed, stooping and peering into the nest at the end of the locker. "Bah! mommie's baby boy won't fight?" taunted the eager one. "But by gollies! I'm goin' to make you," he added, scowling fiercely..
298 people found this
review helpful