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Book Excerpt
othing she paused from time to time to listen for sounds from the next apartment.
What was her neighbor doing now? Had he read of the discovery of the man’s body in the street? Perhaps he had fled already? Not a sound was to be heard there. He did not look in the least like what Jane imagined a murderer would, yet certainly the circumstances pointed all too plainly to his guilt. She had seen two men dash around the corner, one in pursuit of the other. One of them had come back alone. Not long afterward a body–the body of the other man–had been found with a bullet in his heart. It must have been a murder.
What ought she to do about it? Was it her duty to tell her mother and Dad about what she had seen? Mother, she knew, would be horrified and would caution her to say nothing to any one, but Dad was different. He had strict ideas about right and justice. He would insist on hearing every word she had to tell. More than likely he would decide that it was her duty to give the information to the aut…..
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Hp elitebook 840 g4
KSh3,232Read morecoi5 7th generation 8gb memory ram 180ssd plus 500gb hard drive available at *33,000*
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The Best Ghost Stories
KSh20Add to cartBook Excerpt
ould often say, Mrs. Bargrave, you are not only the best, but the only friend I have in the world, and no circumstances of life shall ever dissolve my friendship. They would often condole each other’s adverse fortunes, and read together Drelincourt upon Death, and other good books; and so, like two Christian friends, they comforted each other under their sorrow.
Some time after, Mr. Veal’s friends got him a place in the custom-house at Dover, which occasioned Mrs. Veal, by little and little, to fall off from her intimacy with Mrs. Bargrave, though there was never any such thing as a quarrel; but an indifferency came on by degrees, till at last Mrs. Bargrave had not seen her in two years and a half; though above a twelvemonth of the time Mrs. Bargrave hath been absent from Dover, and this last half year has been in Canterbury about two months of the time, dwelling in a house of her own.
In this house, on the 8th of September, 1705, she was sitting alone in the forenoon, thinking over her unfortun
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Mademoiselle At Arms
KSh20Add to cartSet in the late Georgian era, Elizabeth Bailey’s traditional historical romance features an unconventional heroine with a rebellious spirit who runs headlong into adventure.
Threatened with a pistol by the young lady discovered in a deserted mansion, Major Gerald Alderley is instantly intrigued. Who is the beautiful intruder? And why does she disguise herself as a nun? What circumstance has thrust her into an enterprise both foolhardy and dangerous? The girl’s French accent places her with the émigrés from across the channel, except that Mademoiselle insists she is English.
Set on unravelling the mystery, Gerald begins a relentless pursuit, hunting down every possible clue – much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. When her life proves to be in danger from the villainous émigré Valade, Gerald has his work cut out. For Mademoiselle Melusine, engaged in a desperate battle to prove her true identity, believes she is well able to take care of herself and is determined not to be rescued.
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Smiles
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nfining clothing and bending naturally, was slender and lithesome, but full of curves which told that the bud of childhood was just beginning to open into the blossom of early maturity–about fifteen or sixteen years old, Donald guessed her to be.
At her feet lay an overturned kettle the contents from which, a simple stew, was sending up a cloud of steam from the rough floor, and explained the reason for the misty eyes and tenderly nursed ankle.The whole picture was graven on his mind in a single….
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The Woman in White
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his hand, the golden Papa has a letter; and after he has made his excuse for disturbing us in our Infernal Region with the common mortal Business of the house, he addresses himself to the three young Misses, and begins, as you English begin everything in this blessed world that you have to say, with a great O. ‘O, my dears,’ says the mighty merchant, ‘I have got here a letter from my friend, Mr.—-‘(the name has slipped out of my mind; but no matter; we shall come back to that; yes, yes–right-all-right). So the Papa says, ‘I have got a letter from my friend, the Mister; and he wants a recommend from me, of a drawing-master, to go down to his house in the country.’ My-soul-bless-my-soul! when I heard the golden Papa say those words, if I had been big enough to reach up to him, I should have put my arms round his neck, and pressed him to my bosom in a long and grateful hug! As it was, I only bounced upon my chair. My seat was on thorns, and my soul was on fire to speak but I held my tongue, and let Papa go…
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The House of a Thousand Candles
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rtune. Sister Theresa wheedled large sums out of him, and he spent, as you will see, a small fortune on the house at Annandale without finishing it. It wasn’t a cheap proposition, and in its unfinished condition it is practically valueless. You must know that Mr. Glenarm gave away a great deal of money in his lifetime. Moreover, he established your father. You know what he left–it was not a small fortune as those things are reckoned.”
I was restless under this recital. My father’s estate had been of respectable size, and I had dissipated the whole of it. My conscience pricked me as I recalled an item of forty thousand dollars that I had spent–somewhat grandly–on an expedition that I led, with considerable satisfaction to myself, at least, through the Sudan. But Pickering’s words amazed me.“Let me understand you,” I said, bending toward him. “My grandfather was supposed to be rich, and yet you tell me you find little property. Sister Theresa got money from him to help build a school. How much…..
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