Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"How perfectly heavenly!" exclaimed Patricia, with rapture. "I wish I'd been there to hear it." David left the room and remained absent for some time. On his return he stated that Dido had come with a message from Isabella, and that she refused to deliver it to anyone save the major. Seeing that the negress was thus insistent, and wondering what Miss Dallas might want with him at so painful a time, Jen yielded, and Dido was admitted into the library. She looked taller, more massive, and more sullen than ever, and though she trembled at the sight of Dr. Etwald--who, by the way, kept his dark eyes studiously fixed on her--she was fairly composed when she addressed the major. "Yes; like a street arab. He was one, once, you know, major, and has not forgotten his early habits. Well, he was driven with the carriage to Deanminster.".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"Neither do I, but I think of one name, my friend."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
"Ah, if I hab dat Voodoo stone I be great; great--de queen ob de debbles. But he no let it go."
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Patricia and Elinor swept a swift, remembering glance at the pale, eager face, and the memory of that scene in the old bookroom at Greycroft, when Judith had the vision of her future, flashed into each mind. They had had no laughter then for Judith's prophecy of her literary career, and so now they had only instant sympathy with their little sister's enthusiasm. It struck his sense of smell with the belief that he had smelt it before. Nothing is so strong to awaken memory as odor, and in less than half a minute the mind of the major leaped back to where he had smelt it before. It was the perfume of the dried poison of the devil-stick. "But surely, Uncle Jen, you don't look upon her as the guilty person!" "Why aren't you dancing?" she demanded sternly, her whiskers trembling with the fervor of her interest. "What is Elinor up to that you're not dancing?".
298 people found this
review helpful