Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Geoffrey, springing down from the dog-cart that has been sent to the station to meet him, brushes the frost from his hair, and stamps his feet upon the stone steps. "Mona! Do you want me to stay?" asks he, suddenly, taking her hands in his. "Tell me the truth." She turns through a broken gap into a ploughed field, and breaks into a quick run..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"God knows!" stammered Jen, turning his horrified gaze on the poor girl. He did not know what to do. Isabella was in a dangerous state of hysteria. She had on but a loose white dressing-gown, and her presence in the house at three o'clock in the morning was enough to overpower Jen's sense of the reasonable, independent of the crowning horror of the missing corpse. At this juncture the much-needed aid came from without. David Sarby rushed into the room.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
"No, I'm not playing, Molly!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Me and you and father is going across the ocean for a long, long time away from here. Father ast me about it this morning, and I told him all right, and you could come with us if you was good. He said couldn't I go without you if you was busy and couldn't come, and I told him you would put things down and come if I said so. Won't you, Molly? It won't be no fun without you, and you'd cry all by yourself with me gone." His little face was all drawn up with anxiety and sympathy at my lonely estate with him out of it, and a cry rose up from my heart with a kind of primitive savagery at what I felt was coming down upon me.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
As they enter, mirth ceases. A remarkable silence falls upon the group. Everybody looks at anything but Violet and her companion. "Part of your leg, just below your knee," returns Mr. Darling, undaunted. "Well, when I got up at last, I found a capital place to sit in, with a good branch to my back, and I was so pleased with myself and my exploit that I really think—the day is warm, you know—I fell asleep. At least I can remember nothing until voices broke upon my ear right below me." Each bank and root of mossy tree is studded with pale primroses that gleam like stars when the morning rises to dim their lustre. My lady's straw-bed spreads its white carpet here and there; the faint twitter of birds is in the air, with "liquid lapse of murmuring streams;" every leaf seems bursting into life, the air is keen but soft, the clouds rest lightly on a ground of spotless blue; the world is awake, and mad with youthful glee as "Well for my part I hate people who sing a little. I always wish it was even less. I hold that they are a social nuisance, and ought to be put down by law. My eldest brother Nick sings really very well,—a charming tenor, you know, good enough to coax the birds off the bushes. He does all that sort of dilettante business,—paints, and reads tremendously about things dead and gone, that can't possibly advantage anybody. Understands old china as well as most people (which isn't saying much), and I think—but as yet this statement is unsupported—I think he writes poetry.".
298 people found this
review helpful