Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Mona shivers. Getting up from her lowly position, she draws back the curtains of her window and looks out upon the night. It is brilliant with moonlight, clear as day, full of that hallowed softness, that peaceful serenity, that belongs alone to night. "I think I shall have Allspice too," goes on Mona. "But say nothing. Lady Rodney, if she knew it, would not allow it for a moment. But Jenkins" (the old butler) "has promised to manage it all for me, and to smuggle my dear dogs up to my room without any one being in the least the wiser." A branch of a tree overspreading the water catches his attention. It is not strong, but it suggests itself as a means to the desired end. It is indeed slim to a fault, and unsatisfactory to an alarming degree, but it must do, and Geoffrey, swinging himself up to it, tries it first, and then standing boldly upon it, leans over towards the spot where the fern can be seen..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🃏 Discover the Art of Strategic Gaming at Blackjack basic strategy EVI 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
🃏 Dive into the excitement of online rummy at indifun Rummy Plus APK! Explore different game modes, practice your strategies, and challenge players from across India. Let's play together!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Now, I can't explain why but I never knew a young man who was not annoyed when the girl he loved was spoken of as a "young woman." Geoffrey takes it as a deliberate insult. Mona makes no reply. No sooner thought than done! Laying his gun carefully upon the ground, he looks around him to see by what means he shall gain possession of this lucky fern which is growing, deeply rooted in its native soil, far above him. The grass is still brown, the trees barren, no ambitious floweret thrusts its head above the bosom of its mother earth,—except, indeed, those "floures white and rede, such as men callen daisies," that always seem to beam upon the world, no matter how the wind blows..
298 people found this
review helpful