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Updated: May 26, 2025
Florian had hunted for some distance along the Settite river with his companions, and had killed fifty-three hippopotami during the last season.
I think I know every turn in that blackguard's mind." "Have you been speaking to Florian about him, Captain Clayton?" "Not a word." "Nor has his brother?" "I think not." "What am I to do about the poor boy?" said the anxious father. "Because of his fear about this very man?" "He is only a boy, you know." "Of course he is only a boy. You've no right to expect from him the pluck of a man.
We have said that Sir Florian was vicious; but he was not altogether a bad man, nor was he vicious in the common sense of the word. He was one who denied himself no pleasure, let the cost be what it might in health, pocket, or morals. Of sin or wickedness he had probably no distinct idea. In virtue, as an attribute of the world around him, he had no belief.
On the death of Tacitus, his brother Florian hoped to succeed to the imperial power, and was acknowledged in the same year by the senate and troops of Rome.
Accordingly, I led the way, followed by Hadji Ali, my head Tokroori, with a rifle, while I carried the "Baby." Florian accompanied us. Having the wind fair, we advanced quickly for about half the distance, at which time we were within a hundred and fifty yards of the elephant, who had just arrived at the water, and had commenced drinking.
The trial came on, having been delayed two days by the murder of poor Florian Jones. His body had, in the meantime, been taken home, and the only visitor received at Morony Castle had been Yorke Clayton. On his coming he had been at first closeted with Mr. Jones, and had then gone out and seen the two girls together.
His lieutenants, civil, criminal, and private, were doing his work, according to usage; and from eight o'clock in the morning, some scores of bourgeois and bourgeoises, heaped and crowded into an obscure corner of the audience chamber of Embas du Chatelet, between a stout oaken barrier and the wall, had been gazing blissfully at the varied and cheerful spectacle of civil and criminal justice dispensed by Master Florian Barbedienne, auditor of the Chatelet, lieutenant of monsieur the provost, in a somewhat confused and utterly haphazard manner.
I have to have the covers on." Sometimes Mrs. Pet, his landlady, made him a pitcher of lemonade and brought it up to him, and he sipped it, looking out over the city, soothed by its roar, fascinated by its glow and brilliance. Mrs. Pet said it was a pleasure to have him around, he was so neat. Florian was neat. Not only neat, but methodical.
Upon ye be Bahá’u’l-Abhá! 3 December 1912 Talk at Home of Dr. and Mrs. Florian Krug 830 Park Avenue, New York You have assembled here this afternoon in the utmost love, engaged in the commemoration of God.
"Any woman who had a spark of spirit would resent it, and I have resented it. I have told Lord Fawn that I will, on no account, part with the rich presents which my adored Florian showered upon me in his generosity. It is not for their richness that I keep them, but because they are, for his sake, so inexpressibly dear to me. If Lord Fawn chooses to be jealous of a necklace, he must be jealous."
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