Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Just then the door was opened, and the footman announced "Admiral Sir William Lawrence." "Where's Bill?" Anson asked him. His knees knocked together. Unconsciously, his hand felt gropingly back toward the wood-box in search of some kind of support. Mrs. Keeler's deafness was accountable for her misunderstanding of his words. She brought her advance to a halt and stood panting..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Step into a world of rewards at R patti Enclave! Sign up today and unlock a generous welcome package designed to enhance your gaming experience from the first spin.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
Travel back in time and immerse yourself in the rich tapestry of bygone eras with Cleo's historical fiction collection. Experience the grandeur of ancient civilizations, the drama of historical events, and the lives of legendary figures. Let Cleo's Historical Fiction sweep you off your feet into a world of nostalgia and wonder.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"She didn't know you to be the man that gave her the letter that brought her here?" "I'd awful like to have Harry O'Dule, too." "It's Jacobs. Listen, Pa, I'll tell you how I know. Anse, you remember, was sort of helper with them drillers till he got askin' too many questions an' they fired him. Well, all he asked 'em, I put him up to ask. Anse was always a mighty good listener an' he often heard these two, Jack and Tom, speak of Jacobs an' call him boss. An' one day when Hinter comes over, Anse heard one of 'em call him Jacobs, an' Hinter was awful mad about it." "Humph! It does beat all what foolish ideas them big guns take. Think of them two comin' all the way from Cleveland here just to shoot ducks. Old man Swanson knows his book, too. He charges them sports awful prices; nine dollars a week each and makes 'em sleep two in a bed at that; and every fall that old ramblin' house of his is chuck kerbang full of shooters.".
298 people found this
review helpful