Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"I parted the leaves of the laurel with cautious hand and looked down. At my very feet were Jack and Violet, and"—mysteriously—"she was pinning a flower into his coat!" "Not a doubt of it," says Nolly, gayly. "Every one likes me, you know. 'To see me is to love me, and love but me forever,' and all that sort of thing; we shall be tremendous friends in no time. The fact is, I'm not worth hating; I'm neither useful nor ornamental, but I'm perfectly harmless, and there is something in that, isn't there? Every one can't say the same. I'm utterly certain you can't," with a glance of admiration. "Nolly, you are inventing," says Mrs. Geoffrey, sternly..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🌟 Elevate Your Betting Game with leader bet vip correct scoreI 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
🎁 Claim your exclusive welcome package now and kickstart your gaming journey with incredible bonuses and rewards. Don't miss out on this limited-time offer!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"While you still lived? While I might be of some use to you? No!" says Mona, her eyes gleaming. "To myself I said, there will be time enough for that later on." Then, with a little dry sob, "There will be time to die later on." "You mistake me," says Mona, shocked at her own want of courtesy; and then she extends to him her hand, and, setting her foot upon the huge stone, springs lightly to his side. When she has finished, Geoffrey says "thank you" in a low tone. He is thinking of the last time when some one else sang to him, and of how different the whole scene was from this. It was at the Towers, and the hour with its dying daylight, rises before him. The subdued light of the summer eve, the open window, the perfume of the drowsy flowers, the girl at the piano with her small drooping head and her perfectly trained and very pretty voice, the room, the soft silence, his mother leaning back in her crimson velvet chair, beating time to the music with her long jewelled, fingers,—all is remembered. He lays his hands lightly on her arm, yet his touch seems to burn through her gown into her very flesh. He stoops towards her..
298 people found this
review helpful