United States or Tokelau ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The cup of vengeance was dashed away from her lips for, behind the arras, the waiting headsman of Fate had struck in the night and laid low the man who would have compassed her death!
When Lucy stole into her old friend's chamber the next morning as usual to drink her cup of coffee with her, she found the door open and the room in disorder, and she was told that Mrs. Waldeaux had left London at daybreak. During the year which followed, Mr.
Lieutenant Davon certainly assured me that if his expedition failed, if the Sword did not return to St. George, another attempt under different conditions would be made with a view to breaking up this bandits' lair. Sooner or later the work of justice must be done, and Back Cup be destroyed, even though I may not survive its destruction.
This custom, it is remarkable, was denominated the custom of breaking of bread. Nor could it have had any other name so proper, if the narration of St. Luke be true. For the words "do this in remembrance of me," relate solely, as he has placed them, to the breaking of the bread. They were used after the distribution of the bread, but were not repeated after the giving of the cup.
Breakfast was at such uncertain times that we left that for the back kitchen, and had our own little round table by the fire, or in the parlour, at half-past seven; and so we took care to have a good cup of coffee for Fulk when he came in about five or six; but the half-past twelve dinner and eight o'clock supper were at the long table, our three selves and Baby at the top Baby between me and Mrs.
So I invited him to come in to-morrow for a cup of tea." "Is he is he coming?" asked Mary Alice, "and won't you please tell me what kind of a lion he is, and what's his name?" "He is coming," said Godmother, smiling mischievously, "and I don't know whether to tell you his name or not. Maybe he'd rather do that himself."
Thus the diners were as private as they were ever likely to be in this world, and in the breast of one of them was something that would brook no more delay. "Professor," said this one, with a face which gave no sign of inner turmoil, "I find myself obliged to refer once more to an unwelcome subject." Surface was reaching for his coffee cup; he was destined never to pick it up.
The coffee was brought in by Madame Fosco. He kissed her hand in grateful acknowledgment, and escorted her to the door; returned, poured out a cup of coffee for himself, and took it to the writing-table. "May I offer you some coffee, Mr. Hartright?" he said, before he sat down. I declined. "What! you think I shall poison you?" he said gaily.
Messner's pot was boiling. He threw in the coffee, settled it with half a cup of cold water, and took the pot from the stove. He thawed some sour-dough biscuits in the oven, at the same time heating a pot of beans he had boiled the night before and that had ridden frozen on the sled all morning.
She felt as if she had known Logotheti all her life, as if she understood him thoroughly and was not displeased that he should understand her. They went into the next room for coffee. 'You used to like my Zara maraschino, said Logotheti to Madame De Rosa. He took a decanter from a large case, filled a good-sized liqueur glass for her and set it beside her cup.
Word Of The Day