Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Most women have no character at all.' It was the evening of the next day. Frank Stanhope lay on a couch in a darkened room, a black bandage across his eyes. Erie Landon sat beside him, holding his hand. The pungent odor of ether hung in the air. Out in the dining room old Doctor Allworth, from Bridgetown, was discussing with the specialist things known only to those men of science. "You again want to imply, sister," said Captain Acton with a darkling face, "that my daughter has eloped with the man she rejected.".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"Yet she would renounce her love, would betray him for the sake of filthy lucre," says Mona, gravely. "I cannot understand that."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
"It has been such a charming day," says Violet, at last, in a rather mechanical tone. Yet, in spite of its stiltedness, it breaks the spell of consternation and confusion that has bound the others in its chains, and restores them to speech.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
She was a little brig, and an immense but ragged British ensign fluttered at her trysail gaff-end. She had been painted black, but the fret of an ocean long kept, the hurl and whirl of prodigious seas which were like to founder her, the blistering heat of tropic suns,[Pg 352] the viewless fangs of the wind had so worn her sides that she was mottled with patches of different colour as though she was suffering from some distemper which ravaged vessels of her sort when the voyage was of great length. She rolled wearily, as though her old bones were worn out, and every time she hove her bilge to the eye she disclosed a very landed estate of weed, long, serpentine, trailing, like the huge eel-like growths which sway from black rocks in the white wash of breakers. "We'll not argue the point. St Vincent objects to inoculation for small-pox because he says that that disease is intended by God to keep the population down." "He's movin' a saw-mill up into the big woods," thought Billy. "But where in the world did it come from!" he pondered as he looked after the creaking loads. "Did you talk sell, Tom?" asked Ringold, anxiously..
298 people found this
review helpful