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Updated: June 5, 2025
For the morning no plans had been made, but throughout its length Mrs Fanshawe fought a gallant fight against overwhelming odds, and was hopelessly beaten for her pains. It was her strong determination that her son should be prevented from holding another tete-a-tete with Claire Gifford.
Death, too, for the slayer. Be it so." Fanshawe, in the mean while, contrived to discover, and for a while to retain, the narrow and winding path that led to the river-side. But it was originally no more than a track, by which the cattle belonging to the cottage went down to their watering-place, and by these four-footed passengers it had long been deserted.
Elwyn remembered how his mother had pressed him to accept an invitation to a country house where Winifred Fanshawe was to be. But Mrs. Elwyn had never spoken to her son of her wishes until the day he had come and told her that he intended to ask Winifred to marry him, and then her unselfish joy had moved him and brought them very near to one another.
The new-comer bowed, and glanced a little nervously around. "You will permit me," he begged. "I travel incognito. I have lived so long in England that I have permitted myself the name of an Englishman. I am travelling under the name of Mr. James Fanshawe." "Mr. Fanshawe, by all means," Sogrange agreed. "In the meantime "
Claire sat down on the nearest chair, feeling more of a wreck than ever. "Deserted! A soldier! But if he is found? The punishment..." "He has already been found out, it appears, so that it was a choice between certain punishment if he stayed, or the chance of getting safely away. I am waiting to hear what it's all about!" "Oh, Mrs Fanshawe, it's so difficult.
I have had my eye on her several times since you withdrew yours; and I have had the honour of witnessing a little spectacle which you were spared." I did not ask what; I waited voluntary information, which was presently given. "Miss Fanshawe," he said, "has a companion with her a lady of rank. I happen to know Lady Sara by sight; her noble mother has called me in professionally.
Original Letters of Sir Richard Fanshawe, p. 30. To MR. SECRETARY BENNET. Cadiz, February 29, 1663/March 10, 1664. The same evening we came to anchor at some distance from this city, intending, God willing, the next day, 6th instant, to come on shore; but a strong Levant rising, not only that was impossible, but even for any to come to me from the land.
Some few persons were lost, but not many. Sir Allen Apsley showed the Duke the Lisbon Gazette, in Spanish, where the late victory is set down particularly, and to the great honour of the English beyond measure. It would seem that the "neglect" of which Lady Fanshawe complains, was entirely on the side of the Portuguese.
Just as you wish." Lolling back in his chair, Captain Fanshawe adopted an air of blase indifference, and drawled slowly, "Quite a good winter, isn't it? Lots going on. Have you been to the Opera lately?" "Oh dear!" thought Claire with a gush, "how refreshing to meet a grown- up man who can pretend like a child!" She simpered, and replied artificially, "Oh, yes quite often.
Nobody can run or jump like you. Do it just once more to please me." Kitty Fanshawe, a boy with large blue eyes and a purely gentle face, looked up at Blyth Scudamore so faithfully that to resist him was impossible. "Very well, then; once more for Kitty," said the sweetest-tempered of mankind, as he vaulted back into the tub. "But you know that I always leave off at a dozen.
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