United States or French Polynesia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
While in that room with the spy he had ceased to remember that he was in London his own London, within a mile of his club, within a mile of Tattersall's. He had been, as it were, removed to some strange world in which the tact, and courage, and acuteness natural to him had not been of avail to him.
A TURN or two in Bond Street, a STROLL through Piccadilly, a LOOK IN at TATTERSALL'S, a RAMBLE through Pall Mall, and a STRUT on the Corinthian path, fully occupied the time of our heroes until the hour for dinner arrived, when a few glasses of TOM'S rich wines soon put them on the qui vive.
To-day he was in London, haunting Tattersall's, the East End, the docks, his club, the London Library he had a taste for English history, especially for that of the seventeenth century; he saturated himself with it: to-morrow he would present to his grandfather a scheme for improving the estate and benefiting the cottagers.
The earl was also glad to find that no previous engagement detained him; that is, that he so far sacrificed his own comfort as to leave Tattersall's and the Figuranti of the Opera-House, to come all the way to Grey Abbey, in the county of Kildare.
"Nina," he said, "if you should need help of any sort, you know will you count on me?" Nina hesitated for a moment. "Please!" said Archie gently. She bent her head. "Thank you," she said. "I will." Half-an-hour later they went out again into the blazing sunshine. "What do you think of my hack?" Archie asked, as they drove away westwards. "I got him at Tattersall's the other day.
A thousand irons in the fire: the Territorial Bank, the installation of the picture gallery, drives to Tattersall's with Bois l'Hery, some bibelot to inspect, here or there, at the houses of collectors indicated by Schwalbach, hours passed with trainers, jockeys, dealers in curiosities, the encumbered and multiple existence of a bourgeois gentilhomme in modern Paris.
He wants a good man on his back, for if you keep him fiddling behind, it breaks his heart. I always said you ought to have him you or Mr. Stanmore. He's just the sort for both of you. I'm sorry to hear yours are all coming up at Tattersall's," adds Tom, with a courteous bow to the opposite guest. "Hope it's only to make room for some more." Dick disclaims.
She took with her some article of clothing intended for one of the younger children, but which the child herself was to complete. But when she entered the parlor she was astounded at finding that Mr. Carroll was there. It was nearly twelve o'clock, and at that time Mr. Carroll never was there. He was either in bed, or at Tattersall's, or Dolly did not care where.
A head pushed open the door, and in another moment Vixen's arms were round her old favourite's sleek neck, and the velvet nostrils were sniffing her hair and cheek, in most loving recognition. "You dear, dear old fellow!" cried Vixen; and then turning to Rorie: "You told me he was sold at Tattersall's!" she exclaimed. "So he was, and I bought him." "Why did you not tell me that?"
He looked at his letters, and knowing their outsides, left them for future perusal, and sousing himself into the depths of a many-cushioned easy-chair, proceeded to spell his Morning Post Tattersall's advertisements 'Grosjean's Pale-tots' 'Mr.
Word Of The Day