Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
He had turned towards the door as he was speaking and the words died in his throat as the door flew open and a dusty form stepped into the lighted room. The young Indian had been right. It was Miguel. Even in the uncertain light Bob could see that he carried a queer-shaped package under his arm. He threw himself down behind a wild rosebush. They would probably sail away soon and then he could go down after his clothes. Pretty lucky to have got away from that cross merchant! Eric had always said he was an awfully cross man..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
It is a lovely old castle, ancient and timeworn, with turrets rising in unexpected places, and walls covered with drooping ivy, and gables dark with age.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
In the background partly hidden by the gathering gloom, some fifteen men, and one or two women, are all huddled together, whispering eagerly, with their faces almost touching. The women, though in a great minority, are plainly having the best of it.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Happy we'll be! THAT apple tree of Aunt Grenertsen’s was too tantalizing! Big, beautiful apples hung there day after day, and nobody ever seemed to think of such a thing as taking one off. Aunt Grenertsen might, for instance, so easily say to old Katrina, her housemaid: “Shake down an apple or two for Johnny Blossom”; but no indeed! Far from it. Never in the world had she suggested anything of the kind, although he had been in there every single day since the apples had begun to turn. Along with the most determined of the tourists, Bob made the final descent to the bank of the river. It had been hot enough up at the hotel. On the plateau it was fairly sizzling, but once at the bottom the heat was intense. This probably accounted for the fact that the whole party was quite ready to begin the return trip as soon as the tourists got back their breath. It was of no use; he must cry. With his head in his mother’s lap he cried hard. Mother stroked his head gently. “Uncle Isaac wished it so much himself, my boy. He was eager to go to God,” she whispered..
298 people found this
review helpful