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My Uncle Ezra was a courageous man. "Of course you fellows," he said, smiling at Watkins, in his suave fashion, "are just whetting your knives for me, I know. That's right. I want to know the worst, the hardest things you can say. You can't destroy the intrinsic worth of the pictures for us; I have lived with mine too long, and know how precious it is!"
Helen's one aim is to translate tunes into the language of painting, and pictures into the language of music. It's very ingenious, and she says several pretty things in the process, but what's gained, I'd like to know? Oh, it's all rubbish, radically false. If Monet's really Debussy, and Debussy's really Monet, neither gentleman is worth his salt that's my opinion."
It gave her a peculiar satisfaction to say it: she felt as though she were taking a surreptitious revenge on her husband. "But he's down in the country this week," she continued, "and no one not even the family is allowed to see the pictures when he's away. Of course his Ingres are the finest in France."
"O, a lot; but if I do get it, I shall ask for a goat and cart instead. We have plenty of pictures at home, but we are much in need of a goat and cart." Peter had a peculiar habit, Ethelwyn afterwards told her grandmother, of shaking after she had talked to him awhile, and gurgling down in his throat. She felt sorry for him.
I'll kiss you again now." And he did it quite without embarrassment. It was a sort of manly gratuity. Once Anne, with her book in her hand, came round the shrubs to see how her charge was employing herself, and seeing her looking at pictures with a handsomely dressed companion, she returned to "Lady Audley's Secret" feeling entirely safe.
"Well," resumed Jarvis, "this city was one of the relay stations to boost the flow. Their power plant was the only one of the giant buildings that seemed to serve any useful purpose, and that was worth seeing. I wish you'd seen it, Karl; you'll have to make what you can from our pictures. It's a sun-power plant!" Harrison and Putz stared. "Sun-power!" grunted the captain. "That's primitive!"
"Where is Hester? where are you going to?" cried Stephen in impatient misery, slipping from his horse, as he spoke, to walk beside the Rector. "In my belief she is at Sandford Abbey." "At Sandford!" cried the young man under his breath. "Visit that scoundrel in his own house!" "It appears she has once or twice declared that, in spite of us all, she would go and see his house and his pictures.
The only moment I can get her is on Monday afternoon, and I want her to see the collection of prints and your pictures. If it is all right I will bring her with me on Monday at 3 P.M. We must go to Miss Ward's at 4.30. Do not have tea at that primitive hour; for we shall be obliged to have a cup at Miss Ward's. I wish we might have a chance of seeing Mr.
It has been made familiar to everybody through innumerable photographs and pictures. When we drew our car up in front of the castle it was in gala attire and was the scene of activity which we were at a loss to account for.
It was the most natural thing in the world that I should feel deepest admiration for these successive pictures of quiet scenic beauty, but the Doctor had quite as much to say about them as I had myself, though, as one might imagine, satiated with pictures of this kind far more beautiful far more wonderful he should long ago have expended all his powers of admiring scenes in nature.
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