Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"How d'ye do, Mrs. Rodney? Is Lady Rodney at home? I hope so," says Mrs. Carson, a fat, florid, smiling, impossible person of fifty. And truly it is a very desirable garden, and well worth a visit. It is like a thought from another age. "Where?" asks Doatie, eagerly..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Sometime afterwards, the King went to war with his neighbour, the Emperor Cantalabute. He left the Queen, his mother, Regent of the Kingdom, earnestly recommending to her care his wife and children. He was likely to be all summer in the field, and he had no sooner left than the Queen-mother sent her daughter-in-law and the children to a country house in the wood, so that she might more easily gratify her horrible longing. She followed them thither a few days after, and one evening said to her head cook, "I will eat little Aurora for dinner to-morrow." "Ah, madam!" exclaimed the cook. "I will," said the Queen, and she said it in the voice of an ogress longing to eat fresh meat; "and I will have her served with my favourite sauce."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?” Bob exploded. “Mexicans from the other side of the border?”
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"Well, I confess that puzzles me," says Mona, knitting her straight brows and scanning the small lady before her with earnest eyes, who is surrounded by at least a dozen men, with all of whom she is conversing without any apparent effort. "I really think she is the smallest woman I ever saw. Why, I am only medium height, but surely I could make two of her. At least I have more figure, or form, as you call it, than she has." "It was Tim Ryan," returns Mona, wearily, feeling unequal to a long story just at present. "For the agint, miss. Oh, if ye tell on me now they'll kill me. Maxil, ye know; me lord's agint." "He's covered, safe enough. They've throwed an ould sheet over him,—over what remains of him this cruel day. Och, wirra-wirra!" cries the woman, suddenly, throwing her hands high above her head, and giving way to a peculiar long, low, moaning sound, so eerie, so full of wild despair and grief past all consolation, as to make the blood in Rodney's veins run cold..
298 people found this
review helpful