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Cosmetics are forbidden.


时间:2020-12-01 19:43:58 作者:福特 浏览量:11769

And so Fred Neville was the Earl of Scroope. Not that he owned even to himself that the title and all belonging to it were as yet in his own possession. Till the body of the old man should be placed in the family vault he would still be simply Fred Neville, a lieutenant in Her Majesty’s 20th Hussars. As he travelled home to Scroope, to the old gloomy mansion which was now in truth not only his home, but his own house, to do just as he pleased with it, he had much to fill his mind. He was himself astonished to find with how great a weight his new dignities sat upon his shoulders, now that they were his own. But a few months since he had thought and even spoken of shifting them from himself to another, so that he might lightly enjoy a portion of the wealth which would belong to him without burdening himself with the duties of his position. He would take his yacht, and the girl he loved, and live abroad, with no present record of the coronet which would have descended to him, and with no assumption of the title. But already that feeling had died away within him. A few words spoken to him by the priest and a few serious thoughts within his own bosom had sufficed to explain to him that he must be the Earl of Scroope. The family honours had come to him, and he must support them,—either well or ill as his strength and principles might govern him. And he did understand that it was much to be a peer, an hereditary legislator, one who by the chance of his birth had a right to look for deferential respect even from his elders. It was much to be the lord of wide acres, the ruler of a large domain, the landlord of many tenants who would at any rate regard themselves as dependent on his goodness. It was much to be so placed that no consideration of money need be a bar to any wish,—that the considerations which should bar his pleasures need be only those of dignity, character, and propriety. His uncle had told him more than once how much a peer of England owed to his country and to his order;—how such a one is bound by no ordinary bonds to a life of high resolves, and good endeavours. “Sans reproche” was the motto of his house, and was emblazoned on the wall of the hall that was now his own. If it might be possible to him he would live up to it and neither degrade his order nor betray his country.

  "A man I know and who was responsible for introducing me toVassalaro. He is immensely wealthy.""I see," said T. X., "go on.""I remembered this warning," the other proceeded, "and I thoughtit worth while trying it out to see if it had any effect upon thelittle man. I pulled the pistol from my pocket and pointed it athim, but that only seemed to make it - and then I pressed thetrigger . . . .

Chapter 57

“But that very circumstance frightens one horribly,” said Carmilla.



The door opened behind Bond.

In the Spring of 1916 we were allowed by the British Government to give our "paroles" for purposes of "walks" and other recreation.

At Colombo I saw the jinricksha for the first time. The jinricksha is a small two-wheel wagon, much in shape like a sulky, except that it has a top which can be raised in rainy weather. It has long shafts joined at the end with a crossbar. The jinricksha men are black and wear little else than a sash. When the sun is hot they wear large hats that look like enormous mushrooms, but most of the time these hats are hanging to the back of the ‘ricksha. There are stands at different places for these men as well as carriage stands. While waiting for patrons they let their ‘rickshas rest on the shafts and they sit in the bottom, their feet on the ground. Besides dressing in a sash these men dress in an oil or grease, and when the day is hot and they run, one wishes they wore more clothing and less oil! The grease has an original odor that is entirely its own.

1.  Keggs laughed a hard laugh. "You and your cousins from America!""What about my cousins from America?""Yes, what about them? That's just what Lord Belpher and me havebeen asking ourselves.""I don't know wot you're talking about.""You soon will, young blighted Albert! Who sneaked that Americanfellow into the 'ouse to meet Lady Maud?""I never!""Think I didn't see through your little game? Why, I knew from thefirst.""Yes, you did! Then why did you let him into the place?"Keggs snorted triumphantly. "There! You admit it! It was thatfeller!"Too late Albert saw his false move--a move which in a normal stateof health, he would have scorned to make. Just as Napoleon, minus astomach-ache, would have scorned the blunder that sent hisCuirassiers plunging to destruction in the sunken road.

2.“Shall I draw the picture for you? I see a fair city, deep embowered in hills and sheltered by olive-groves. Over it beams a broad sky, deeply blue; many soft bells caress the summer air. Away in the Cascine Woods a gay party of people are seated on the velvety moss; they have mandolins, and they sing for pure gaiety of heart. One of them, a woman with fair hair, arrayed in white, with a red rose at her bosom, is gathering the wild flowers that bloom around her, and weaving them into posies for her companions. A stranger, pacing slowly, book in hand, through the shady avenue, sees her — her eyes meet his. She springs up to greet him; he takes her hand. The woman is yourself; the stranger no other than your poor friend, who now, for a brief space, takes leave of you!”




“It isn’t me, Margaret: if I could do anything, I’m sure I would; but I really couldn’t ask your papa for another new dress, after his having given you so many this year, already.”


Among the debris on the floor, he remembered, was a five-foot space-ax, tungsten-steel blade and springy aluminum shaft.


“Gosh, it must be great to be a smart guy like Georgie!” moaned Vergil Gunch. “He’s probably stolen all of Dorchester. I’d hate to leave a poor little defenseless piece of property lying around where he could get his hooks on it!”

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