Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 1, 2025
And he took her hand again in the masterful way that thrilled her, and waited for her to answer. "Mr. Cartoner will not go away from Warsaw if he can help it." "Ah!" said Kosmaroff. "Why tell me why?" But Netty shook her head. They were getting into a side issue assuredly, and she had not come here to stray into side issues.
Lady Orlay at length went to meet Cartoner, and as they shook hands, one of those slight and indefinable family resemblances which start up at odd moments became visible. "I want you particularly to-morrow night," said the lady; "I have some people coming. I will send a card to your club this evening." And she turned to say good-bye to a departing guest. Deulin was at Cartoner's elbow again.
In the mean time he is, if one may again borrow his own terse expression, "by no means nowhere," for in the Foreign Office those who know Spain are a small handful; and those who, like Cartoner, can cross the Pyrenees and submerge themselves unheeded in the quiet, sleepy life of Andalusia, are to be numbered on two fingers, and no more.
It was to one of these streets that Cartoner had told his driver to proceed, and the man had some difficulty in finding the number. It was a house like any other in the street like any other in any other street. For St.
You will find us in the club-house when you come back." So Cartoner went to the grand-stand to seek Wanda there, in the face of all Warsaw, with his promise to avoid her still fresh in his memory. As he approached he saw her in the second tier of boxes. She was dressed in black and white, as she nearly always was. It was only the Russians and the Germans who wore gay colors.
He had, perhaps, a soft place in that cynical and dry heart for his niece, and liked to hear her simple talk. Cartoner was listening, with a greater attention than the words deserved. He was weighing them with a greater nicety than experienced social experts are in the habit of exercising over dinner-table talk.
At all events, I hope we may meet somewhere. If you are passing through Dantzic on your homeward journey, you will find your old friend Cable there." This last sentence was partly disfigured by a peculiar-shaped blot. The writer had evidently dropped his pen, all laden with ink, upon the letter as he wrote it. And Cartoner knew that this was the kernel, as it were, of this chatty epistle.
He looked at Deulin gravely beneath his thoughtful brows. They were marvellously dissimilar these friends. "Bah!" returned Deulin, throwing aside the book he had picked up Lelewel's History of Poland, in Polish. "I trouble for your future, Cartoner. You take life so seriously you, who need not work at all.
"If men could be in two places at the same moment, say once only during a lifetime, their lives would be very different from what they are." Cartoner had glanced quickly at him when he spoke, but only saw a ready, imperturbable smile. Deulin was a man counting his friends among all nationalities.
"She told me of it, and we decided that there was nothing to do but kill Emmanuelo Dembaza. She kissed me, Excellency, and every time she did that I would kill a man if she asked me." "Indeed." "Yes, Excellency." "And if you are taken and sent to prison for, say, twenty years?" suggested Cartoner. "Then Juanita will drown herself. She has sworn it." "And if I do not give you up? If you escape?"
Word Of The Day
Others Looking