Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"We'll meet you at the door on Charter Street," Elinor reminded her, as she kissed her. "Be sure to be there on time." "What!" David made a step forward and stared at the wall. His face was quite pale, and his hands trembled in spite of his efforts to control himself. I don't think I ever saw my house look so lovely before. Mrs. Johnson had put all the flowers out of hers and Mrs. Cain's garden all over everything, and the table was a mass of soft pink roses that were shedding perfume and nodding at one another in their most society manner. There is no glimmer in the world like that which comes from really old polished silver and rosewood and mahogany, and one's great-great-grandmother's hand-woven linen feels like Oriental silk across one's knees..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"I am glad to know that you return and find your wife and little boy well," said Lucy.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
"Why," answered the old lady, "I sent George and Joseph on horseback to every house where she is known, and she has visited none, nor been seen by any this morning. Yes, Mrs Moore as she was passing our gate, caught a sight of her coming out of the house at half-past seven, or at some such time, and gave her a curtsy and received a smile. But nobody else that George and Joseph met and called upon has seen her this day. What have you to tell me about her?"
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"Hush!" said Elinor in an undertone. "Don't make a fuss. There's Doris Leighton waving to us from the model stand. She looks awfully well, doesn't she? Her little vacation——" "I'm sure I don't know what I'll do with Isabella," sighed Mrs. Dallas; "she is getting so disobedient." By this time I was in such a solution of grief that I would soon have had to be sopped up with a sponge if Pet hadn't run in all bubbling over. Happiness has a habit of not even acknowledging the presence of grief, and Pet didn't seem to see our red noses, crushed draperies and generally damp atmosphere. "What in the world did Hannah Ann write to you for?" queried Elinor absently. "She usually sends her weekly reports to me.".
298 people found this
review helpful