Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"I'll talk things over with Billy in the mornin'," promised Wilson as he took the boot-jack from its peg. A tall, sad-visaged man rose slowly from his seat and took a few steps up the aisle. Like the others he was full bearded; like them his hands bore the calluses of honest toil. Captain Acton, the surgeon, and Mr Fellowes went into the cabin, leaving the Admiral and his son to themselves..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
She is plainly very much in earnest, and has fixed her large expressive eyes—lovely as loving—with calm expectancy upon the duchess. She has altogether forgotten that she is a duchess (perhaps, indeed, has never quite grasped the fact), and that she is an imposing and portly person not accustomed to exercise of any description.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
"But what is it?" asks Miss Mansergh from behind Lady Rodney's chair, just a little impatiently.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
This letter was unsigned. It was manifestly a rough draft of the posted letter which had been amplified before it was sent. Captain Acton's hand dropped with it on to his knee. He exclaimed: "Then why did you take it a'tall, I want'a know?" As Mrs. Wilson recovered her balance and squared away for a surer stroke, Croaker swooped in through the open door and, with many muffled croaks, alighted in the center of the table. In his black beak he held another glittering gold piece, which he dropped in front of Mrs. Wilson's plate. Then picking up a fat doughnut from the platter he hopped to the motto God Bless Our Home and perching himself on its gilt frame proceeded to appease his morning's hunger. Immediately every stitch of canvas that the schooner carried was set, and bending to the pressure of the fine breeze that was now flashing from right abeam, gracing the multitudinous run of the surge with the various splendours of the morning's light; the three-masted American-built clipper Aurora thrashed through it in her pursuit of the black British frigate at a rate of sailing that within three hours brought her within speaking distance of the man-of-war..
298 people found this
review helpful