The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Volume 6

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C. Scribner's sons, 1922

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Page 233 - Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried : the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.
Page 58 - Willie, what have you done? What have you done ? What have you done ? BRODIE. I cannot tell you, Mary. But you may trust me. You must give up this Leslie . . . and at once. It is to save me.
Page 121 - Were his — and hers — whose effort was to please. And to excel in pleasing was to reign, And, if you sighed, never to sigh in vain. But then, as now — it may be, something more — Woman and man were human to the core.' The hearts that throbbed behind that quaint attire Burned with a plenitude of essential fire. They too could risk, they also could rebel, They could love wisely — they could love too well. In that great duel of Sex, that ancient strife Which is the very central fact of life,...
Page 389 - It now remains for me only to pass the sentence of the law upon you, which is, that you be taken from hence to the place from whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, there to be HANGED BY THE NECK UNTIL YOU ARE DEAD, and...
Page 271 - I'd have borrowed yours — three months from now I might have been driving in my barouche, with you behind it, Bertrand, in a tasteful livery. BERTRAND (seeing CHARLES). Lord, a policeman ! MACAIRE. Steady! What is a policeman? Justice's blind eye. (To CHARLES.) I think, sir, you are in the force ? CHARLES. I am, sir, and it was in that character MACAIRE. Ah, sir, a fine service! CHARLES. It is, sir, and if your papers MACAIRE. You become your uniform. Have you a mother? Ah, well, well! CHARLES....
Page 40 - Stupendiously pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Deakin, split me! [BRODIE. We don't often see England's heroes our way, Captain, but when we do, we make them infernally welcome. RIVERS. Prettily put, sink me! A demned genteel sentiment, stap my vitals !] BRODIE. Oh Captain ! you flatter me. [We Scotsmen have our qualities, I suppose, but we are but rough and ready at the best. There's nothing like your Englishman for genuine distinction. He is nearer France than we are, and smells of his neighbourhood.
Page 98 - I'd a'bin with him last night, it ain't psalm-singin' would have got us off. Psalm-singin' ? Muck ! Let "em try it on with me. AINSLIE. Losh me, I heard a noise. (Alarm; they crouch into the shadow and listen.) SMITH. All serene. ( To AINSLIE. ) Am I to cut that liver out of you? Now, am I? (A whistle.) 'St! here we are. (Whistles a modulation, which is answered.) SCENE II To these BRODIE MOORE.
Page 309 - Criminals has met with a certain success, and one is ever in quest of fresh material. DUMONT. By the way, a singular thing about my patent key. BRIGADIER. This gentleman is speaking. MACAIRE. Excellent Dumont! he means no harm. This Macaire is not personally known to you ? BRIGADIER. Are you connected with justice ? MACAIRE. Ah, sir, justice is a point above a poor author. BRIGADIER (with glass). Justice is the very devil. MACAIRE. My dear sir, my friend and I, I regret to say, have an appointment...
Page 184 - ... champion who publicly insults me. My vanity is cured ; you will judge it right, I am persuaded, all of you, that I should accept my proper punishment in silence ; you, my Lord Duke, to pardon this young gentleman; and you, Mr. Musgrave, to spare me further provocation, which I am determined to ignore. DOROTHY (rushing forward, falling at AUSTIN'S knees, and seizing his hand). George, George, it was for me. My hero ! take me ! What you will! AUSTIN (in an agony). My dear creature, remember that...
Page 310 - I, I regret to say, have an appointment in Lyons, or I could spend my life in this society. Charge your glasses: one hour to madness and to joy! What is to-morrow? the enemy of to-day? Wine? the bath of life. One moment: I find I have forgotten my watch. (He makes for the door.) BRIGADIER. Halt ! MACAIRE. Sir, what is this jest ? BRIGADIER.

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