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Having now received this admeasurement from the builder, which was rather more favourable than my own, I looked upon the destination of these little vessels as yet more incredible than before.

He would have to pass through streets obstructed by troops, he would be arrested and searched; his hands smelt of powder, he would be shot; and the letter would not reach its destination. What was to be done? At the moment when he had almost despaired of a solution, the name of Arnauld de l'Ariége came to his mind. Arnauld de l'Ariége was a Representative after his own heart.

"It is rather a long way," she reminded him. "I am down at my old rooms again. The house in Russell Square is full of workmen, after the fire." "It does not matter how far," he said simply. His fit of silence continued. When at last they arrived at their destination, she held out her hand. Again he shook his head. "I am coming in," he announced. She hesitated. "My rooms are very tiny."

Besides," he continued, "to tell you the truth, my ideas as to my destination were a little hazy. To come and look for some queer sort of building by the side of the sea, which has been unoccupied for a dozen years or so, scarcely seems a reasonable quest, does it?" "Scarcely, indeed," Mr. Fentolin assented. "You may thank me, Mr. Hamel, for the fact that the place is not in ruins.

There were a destination for loveless gifts; there were the way to reach the pocket of the deserving poor, and yet save the time of secretaries! But, alas! there is no colour of romance in such a course; and people nowhere demand the picturesque so much as in their virtues.

He had crossed the lake in the ferry, intending to take the steamer at Westport for his destination. Being a man who was always in a hurry, but never in season, he had reached the steamboat landing just in time to see the boat moving off.

Daylight came on with marvelous rapidity, and as the range of vision gradually became clear for a distance of several miles, the Greek rose to his feet and scanned the surroundings with a sweeping gaze. His countenance expressed first perplexity, then delighted surprise, and turning to his companions he cried: "We have reached our destination. See!

You must not forget that! So far as your story went, I had nothing but praise for it. There were many chapters which only an artist could have written." She raised her eyebrows. They had turned into Bond Street now, and were close to their destination. "You men of letters are so odd," she exclaimed. "What is Art but Truth? and if my book be not true, how can it know anything of art?

We therefore resolved to leave our train, and go directly into the interior, to visit a most interesting and typical pueblo, known as Ácoma. Arriving at the station nearest to it, early in the morning, we found a wagon and four horses waiting to receive us, and quickly started for our destination over a natural road across the almost level prairie.

Weeks, months, sometimes, roll by before the wagon reaches its destination; but it reaches it at last. Then begin the struggle, and pains, the labors, and dangers of border life, in all of which woman bears her part. While the primeval forest falls before the stroke of the man-pioneer, his companion does the duty of both man and woman at home. The hearthstone is laid, and the rude cabin rises.