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And when that conflagration was lighted in me about my début, Tom did it. I was sitting peaceably in my own summer-house, dressed in the summer-before-last that Jane washes and irons every day while I am deciding how to hand out the first sip of my trousseau to the neighbours, when Tom, in a dangerous blue-striped shirt, with a tie that melted into it in tone, jumped over my fence and landed at my side. He kissed the lace ruffle on my sleeve while I reproved him severely and settled down to enjoy him. But I didn't have such a good time as I generally do with him. He was too full of another woman, and even a first cousin can be an exasperation in that condition. vc77, "Mrs. Dallas. She had missed her daughter and had been seeking for her in a state of terror, surely natural under the circumstances. I found her pacing the veranda, wondering what had become of Isabella."

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Enjoy voice and video vc77 "Dido, you wouldn't like to see me the wife of Dr. Etwald?".
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Jun 15, 2025

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5.0

13.5M reviews

Unmarked6698

April 17, 2025

"Don't talk like this. You are at my table. There is a stranger" (here he bowed ceremoniously to Etwald) "or shall I say a friend, present!" "It is a fact," insisted Jen. "I have the evidence of Jaggard to prove that Dido was in the room on that night." "This is my real introduction to the night-life class," she said, with a sweeping gesture that, unseen to all but the anxious Patricia, caught the cord from its hiding place among the draperies. "And I want this evening to be a sweet memory to us all.".

453 people found this review helpful

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May 4, 2025

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Conrad

May 24, 2025

The day passed delightfully, with morning service at the famous Dr. Arnold's stately church, a specially sociable dinner at home, and a 'bus ride through the crisp sunshine of the afternoon into the snowy outskirts, with a cozy little tea in Miss Jinny's big front room, where they could watch the twilight gather among the bare trees of the park and the lamps sparkle out among the shadows. After supper Mr. Spicer invited them in to see his collection of photographs which he had taken in all parts of the civilized and barbarous world, before the long illness, contracted in the swamps of West Africa, had put a stop to his active, adventurous life as a collector for the University. "My word!" breathed Patricia, stirred and chilled in spite of herself. "They're doing it brown this time!" "My mother is so cruel," said Isabella in a low tone, "and I feel so ill," she continued, raising her hand to her loose hair. "Yes, yes; I must go home. But Maurice--my dear Maurice." "The great master," repeated Jen; "you mean Dr. Etwald?".

298 people found this review helpful