United States or Montserrat ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Naturally," Storch replied, as he turned off the water. Fred began to dress himself carefully. Storch loaned him an indifferent razor. The shaving process was slow but in the end it was accomplished. Fred was amazed at the freshness of his appearance.
Storch had been giving them plenty of tether, but now he was beginning to pull up sharply, putting their windy theories to the test. They were for clearing the ground, were they? Well, so far so good. But generalities led nowhere. Why not something specific? Wasn't the time ripe for action thousands of men, walking the streets, locked out because they dared to demand a decent and even break?
"There may be two ... providing your wife comes back with him... Mrs. Hilmer sent for her." "Mrs. Hilmer!" Storch smiled his usual broad smile, exhibiting his green teeth. "She developed a whim to attend the launching... Naturally she wished her dearest friend with her." Fred Starratt sat down. He was trembling inwardly, but he knew instinctively that he must appear nonchalant and calm.
"Well, if you don't mind," he began to flounder, "I'll " Storch gave him a contemptuous shove. "Go on ... go on!" he cried, almost impatiently, and the next moment Fred Starratt found himself at Ginger's side... For an instant she stood transfixed as she lifted her eyes to his. "Don't scream!" he commanded between his locked lips. "I don't want that man to know that "
Imaginative pictures in words, interspersed with sentiments, characterize the writings of Bettina and many other romancists, while they show little power in the construction of plots and the development of character. The historical novelists of the early part of this century, as Van der Velde, Spindler, Rellstab, Storch, and Rau, have been succeeded by Koenig, Heller, and several others.
At Basle, then, either at the "Storch" or at the "Drei Konige," as you prefer. I hope that by that time you will have received your passport, and we can then at once concoct our journey to Paris. Answer "Yes" without fail, and do not mind the somewhat tedious journey from Zurich to Basle.
Fred pretended to find Storch's manner infectious. He had never seen anyone so eager, so thrilling with anticipation. "I've got to buy you a new outfit complete," Storch went on, filling the coffeepot with water. "And you must be shaved and shorn and made human-looking again.
It was not a dreaming state, but the projection of the main events of the preceding day distorted by fancy. Toward morning he fell into a heavy sleep. He did not hear Storch leave. He woke at intervals during the day and relapsed into delicious dozes. It was evening when he finally roused himself. He rose. He felt extraordinarily refreshed, stronger, in fact, than he had been for weeks.
Storch continued his searching scrutiny. Fred felt uneasy it seemed as if this man opposite him was drawing the innermost secret of his soul to the surface. Finally Storch rubbed his hands together with an air of satisfaction as he said: "So you know Hilmer!... That makes you all the more interesting... Well, well, let's be moving. I'll put you up for the night. I've got a shelter, such as it is."
Fred rose. He had an impulse to refuse. There was something uncanny about the power of Storch. He was at once fascinating and repulsive. But, on second thought, any shelter was better than a night spent on the streets. He had had two months of buffeting and he was ready for even an indifferent comfort. He ended by going with his new-found friend.
Word Of The Day