Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"It was very unkind," says Mona; "and he has a hateful face." Mr. Moore is her landlord, and the owner of the lovely wood behind Mangle Farm where Geoffrey came to grief yesterday. For a long time the buffalo had not been seen. Every one was hungry, for the hunters could find no food for the people..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
After the young men had waved their last farewells from the car windows and the train had puffed its way out of the great arching dome, Patricia spoke her mind with her usual frankness.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
"Ever since that handkerchief has been removed sir," said she, earnestly, "Jaggard has got well. I do believe, sir, that the scent on it kept the poor dear stupid."
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Mona is the first to recover herself. At last, one day, Old Man decided that he would make a woman and a child, and he modelled some clay in human shape, and after he had made these shapes and put them on the ground, he said to the clay, "You shall be people." He spread his robe over the clay figures and went away. The next morning he went back to the place and lifted up the robe, and saw that the clay shapes had changed a little. When he looked at them the next morning, they had changed still more; and when on the fourth day he went to the place and took off the covering, he said to the images, "Stand up and walk," and they did so. They walked down to the river with him who had made them, and he told them his name. "What a wretched evening!" says Violet, with a little shiver. "Geoffrey, draw the curtains closer." It is growing dusk; "the shades of night are falling fast," the cold pale sun, that all day long has cast its chill October beams upon a leafless world, has now sunk behind the distant hill, and the sad silence of the coming night hath set her finger with deep touch upon creation's brow..
298 people found this
review helpful