Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Jerry looked around again and laughed shortly. “We’ll be lucky if we’re there by to-morrow night. That cliff is twenty miles away at least.” “Some class, eh, Bob?” laughed Whiskers as they settled themselves. “I found it and try to get here every night. But let’s stop talking; it’s about to begin.” “How old are you now, Bob? Seventeen, isn’t it? Yes, yes, of course. And in a week or two you will have finished with Crossways for good?”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Lady Meg was dressed in black out of regard for the dead man, and she looked worn, red-eyed and very dejected. But in coming forward to greet the major, her fine blue eyes lighted up with the fire of hope, and it was with something of her old impetuosity--quenched since the death of Maurice--that she gave him her hand and repeated her last remark.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
"What in the world—" she began in alarm, but Elinor silenced her questioning with a weak wave of one tired hand.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
There was no better luck this time and when he came again to the door he was ready to admit defeat. "What shall we do, my daughter?" said the old man. "You are a Princess and accustomed to the best of everything, and I have but poor fare to offer, black bread and radishes; but if you will let me, I will go and tell the King of the Peacocks that you are here; if he had once seen you, he would assuredly marry you." "Alas! he is a wicked man," said Rosette; "he would only put me to death; but if you can lend me a little basket, I will tie it round Fretillon's neck, and he will have very bad luck, if he does not manage to bring back some food." Foot by foot they made their way through the tunnel of dread. Cold fear clutched at the heart of each boy, for any moment disaster might come in one of a hundred ways—and they couldn’t see it coming! Then, as suddenly as the hope had come, it fled. Possibly Mr. Whitney had not come back! Feather-in-the-Wind alone would be no use! He must get out himself!.
298 people found this
review helpful