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aurist basement beautiful began Bergmanns Bertha blouses breathed Clara dark dear door Dorothy Richardson downstairs dress Dutch Republic Elsa Emma Emma's English girls everything eyes face feeling Frau Fraulein Pfaff Fraulein's voice garden gazing German German girls Gertrude Gertrude's grey river Groschen hair hands happy Harriett head heard Hendy Herr Herr Pastor Jimmie Judy Kapellmeister knew laughed Leely lein light listening looked Mademoiselle Mademoiselle's Martins Millie Minna Miriam felt Miriam found Miriam glanced Miriam saw Miss Henderson moiselle morning murmured never Norderney Norfolk jacket Pastor Lahmann Perhaps piano playing quiet quietly remember round saal Sarah Saratoga trunk schoolroom seemed shone shouting side singing sitting smiling someone sound stairs standing stood strange summer-house talk tell things thought Miriam turned Ulrica upstairs Waldstrasse walk wanted window wondered Zeep
Page ii - PILGRIMAGE By Dorothy M. Richardson A series of novels, each complete in itself, telling in a new way the story of the adventures of Miriam. Miss 'May Sinclair writing in The Egoist says: "To me these novels show .an art and method and form carried to punctilious perfection.
Page xv - hour a descending darkness took her suddenly. She woke from it to the sound of violent language, furniture being roughly moved, a swift, angry splashing of water . . . something breaking out, breaking through the confinements of this little furniture-filled room . . . the best gentlest thing she knew
Page xii - It is as if no other writers had ever used their senses so purely and with so intense a joy in their use. This intensity is the effect of an extreme concentration on the thing seen or felt. Miss Richardson disdains every stroke that does not tell. Her novels
Page 3 - Her new Saratoga trunk stood solid and gleaming in the firelight. To-morrow it would be taken away and she would be gone. The room would be altogether Harriett's. It would never have its old look again. She evaded the thought and moved
Page vi - missing the new trend of the philosophies of the twentieth century. All that we know of reality at first hand is given to us through contacts in which those interesting distinctions are lost. Reality is thick and deep, too thick and too deep and at the same time too fluid
Page 78 - outraged head hung over the steaming basin—her hair spread round it like a tent frilling out over the table. For a moment she thought that the nausea which had seized her as she surrendered would, the next instant, make flight imperative. Then her amazed ears caught the sharp
Page xi - opened, showing high balconied houses. The side streets were feathered with trees and ended mistily. "Away ahead were edges of clean, bright masonry in profile, soft, tufted heads of trees, bright green in the clear light. At the end of the vista the air was like pure saffron-tinted mother-of-pearl.
Page 257 - Rise of the Dutch Republic and the Chronicles of the Schonberg-Cotta family. She held to the memory of these two books. Something was coming from them to her. She handled the shiny brown goldtooled back of Motley's Rise and felt the hard graining of the red-bound Chronicles. . . . There were green trees outside in the moonlight ... in Luther's Germany