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Category： Author：novel
On Sunday, the 26th of November, 1631, there was great excitement in the little town of Loudun, especially in the narrow streets which led to the church of Saint-Pierre in the marketplace, from the gate of which the town was entered by anyone coming from the direction of the abbey of Saint-Jouin-les-Marmes. This excitement was ca...
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Category： Author：novel
The sun had set behind the mountains, and the rich plain of Athens was suffused with the violet glow of a Grecian eye. A light breeze rose; the olive-groves awoke from their noonday trance, and rustled with returning animation, and the pennons of the Turkish squadron, that lay at anchor in the harbour of Pir?|us, twinkled in the livel...
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Category： Author：novel
It was a serene noonday in that melancholy interlude of the seasons when autumn has really ceased—winter not yet visibly begun. The same hired vehicle which had borne Lionel to Fawley more than five years ago, stopped at the gate of the wild umbrageous grass-land that surrounded the antique Manor-house. It had been engaged, from the ne...
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Category： Author：novel
A bright red sports-roadster, loaded to overflowing with young people of both sexes, turned in at the gate of the Carltons’ home in Spring City and whizzed up the driveway to the porch steps. As it stopped at the entrance, Dorothy Crowley, who was Linda Carlton’s best friend, disentangled herself from the group and jumped out.
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Category： Author：novel
In a certain quiet and sequestered nook of the retired village of London — perhaps in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square, or at any rate somewhere near Burlington Gardens — there was once a house of entertainment called the “Bootjack Hotel.” Mr. Crump, the landlord, had, in the outset of life, performed the duties of Boots in some in...
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