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Absent-Minded Beggar Amaranths answered arms artillery Ashby asked attack Baffin Beaucaire beautiful Boulge bowed Bredfield House Bromley called cavalry Chateaurien Cornelius Count course cried Deacon dear Delia door Dudley Hardy English Bill eyes face father feel fire followed garden girl give glance Governess guess guns hand head heart Hornsey horses humour Idler infantry Ismay Jock Lady Mary laughed light lips live looked Lord Lord Lansdowne MacFeeters Madame Mary Carlisle Mary's mistress mind Miss Ellis Miss Lange monsieur mother never night Odilon Redon Oliver Jones once Oronsay perfect day Portland Place pretty Punchestown replied rifle road rose round seemed Shifty side smile Solitary Squaw talk tell there's thing thought told took turned Twist voice walked watch Winterset woman words young Youth
Page 510 - I wish to hear nothing from him — ever ! " "Egad, madam," cried the Duke, "this saucy fellow has paid you the last insult. He is so sure of you he does not fear you will believe the truth. When all is told, if you do not agree he deserved the lashing we planned to " "I'll hear no more!" ' ' You will bitterly repent it, madam. For your own sake I entreat " "And I also,
Page 507 - For a moment there was even a chance that M. Beaucaire might have the best of it. Two of his adversaries were prostrate, more than one was groaning, and the indomitable Frenchman had actually almost beat off the ruffians, when, by a trick, he was overcome. One of them, dismounting, ran in suddenly from behind, and seized his blade in a thick leather gauntlet. Before Beaucaire could disengage the weapon, two others threw themselves from their horses and hurled him to the earth. ' ' A moi f A moi,...
Page 505 - The cavaliers came straight at him. He parried the thrust of the first, but the shock of collision hurled his horse against the side of the coach. "Sacred swine!" he cried bitterly. "To endanger a lady, to make this brawl in a lady's presence! Drive on!" he shouted. "No!" cried Lady Mary. The Frenchman's assailants were masked, but they were not highwaymen. "Barber! Barber!" they shouted hoarsely, and closed in on him in a circle. "See how he use his steel!
Page 84 - The bugles ! they are crying back again — Bugles that broke the nights of Babylon, And then went crying on through Nineveh. Stand back, ye trembling messengers of ill ! Women, let go my hair : I am the Queen, A whirlwind and a blaze of swords to quell Insurgent cities. Let the iron tread Of armies shake the earth. Look, lofty towers: Assyria...
Page 471 - I am at present staying with a Farmer in a very pleasant house near Woodbridge : inhabiting such a room as even you, I think, would sleep composedly in ; my host a taciturn, cautious, honest, active man whom I have known all my life. He and his Wife, a capital housewife, and his Son, who could carry me on his shoulders to Ipswich, and a Maid servant who, as she curtsies of a morning, lets fall the Tea-pot etc., constitute the household.
Page 507 - If he does, I'll kill him!" she said fiercely. "Ah, what cowards! Will you see the Duke murdered?" "The Duke!" laughed Guilford. "They will not kill him, unless — be easy, dear madam, 'twill be explained. Gad's life!" he muttered to Molyneux, "'Twere time the varlet had his lashing! D'ye hear her?" "Barber or no barber," answered Molyneux, "I wish I had warned him.
Page 470 - I really do like to sit in this doleful place with a good fire, a cat and dog on the rug, and an old woman in the kitchen.
Page 470 - While EFG was at Boulge, he always got up early, eat his small breakfast, stood at his desk reading or writing all the morning, eat his dinner of vegetables and pudding, walked with his Skye terrier, and then often finished the day by spending the evening with us or the Bartons. He did not visit with the neighbouring gentlefolks, as he hated a set dinner party.
Page 507 - I'm nigh of a mind to offer him a rescue in the duke's face." "Truss him up, lads," said the heavy voice. "Clear the way in front of the coach. There sit those whom we avenge upon a presumptuous lackey. Now, Whiffen, you have a fair audience, lay on and baste him.
Page 469 - I read of mornings ; the same old books over and over again, having no command of new ones : walk with my great black dog of an afternoon, and at evening sit with open windows, up to which China roses climb, with my pipe, while the blackbirds and thrushes begin to rustle bedwards in the garden, and the nightingale to have the neighbourhood to herself.