Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"I know," says Mona, brightening, and putting on an air so different from her own usual unaffected one as to strike her listener with awe. "I shall say, 'Oh! thanks, quite too awfully much, don't you know? but Geoffrey and I didn't find it a bit long, and we were as warm as wool all the time.'" "Ah," said the old woman, "has our son-in-law been generous and given us something nice to eat?" "Well, we have both seen the bay," says Mona, cheerfully,—"Bantry Bay I mean: so we can talk about that. Yet indeed"—seriously—"you cannot be said to have seen it properly, as it is only by moonlight its full beauty can be appreciated. Then, with its light waves sparkling beneath the gleam of the stars, and the moon throwing a path across it that seems to go on and on, until it reaches heaven, it is more satisfying than a happy dream. Do you see that hill up yonder?" pointing to an elevation about a mile distant: "there I sometimes sit when the moon is full, and watch the bay below. There is a lovely view from that spot.".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
But Maxwell still lingers, looking first at her and then very intently at her companion.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 earliest times there was a man who had a very beautiful daughter. Many young men wished to marry her, but whenever she was asked she shook her head and said she did not wish to marry.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"Yes, I dare say," says Lady Rodney, who is now wondering when this high-flown visitor will take her departure. "It is now my turn to demand obedience," says Mona, with a little wan attempt at a smile. "Will you make every hour of my life unhappy? Can I live in the thought that each minute may bring me evil news of you,—may bring me tidings of your death?" Here she gives way to a passionate burst of grief, and clings closer to him, as though with her soft arms to shield him from all danger. Her tears touch him. There are no windows; but in their place are four unpleasant slits about two yards in length, let into the thick walls at studiously unequal distances. These are filled up with an opaque substance that perhaps in the Middle Ages was called glass. "Shot himself! How?" she says, hoarsely, her bosom rising and falling tumultuously. "Jenkins, answer me.".
298 people found this
review helpful