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Updated: June 23, 2025
So she did not throw the letter in the fire, or stamp upon it, or do any of the frantic things she was tempted to do; she held it in her hand like a common note, and said calmly. "Who brought this? and when did, it come?" "Last night, only I couldn't find you. It was nigh dropping into Miss Gascoigne's hands, and a pretty mess that would have been.
Perhaps let us give her the credit of a good motive rather than a bad one she really felt she had been wrong, was moved and softened, and brought to a better mind. In any case, that happened which had never been known to happen before in Miss Gascoigne's existence when asked to speak she had literally nothing to say! "Then," continued Dr.
A denial rang out. "It was no accident!" cried Lord Ostermore, and swore an oath. "We all saw what it was." "I'faith, then, your eyes deceived you. It was an accident, I say and who should know better than I?" He was smiling in that whimsical enigmatic way of his. Smiling still he sank back into Gascoigne's arms. "You are talking too much," said the Major. "What odds?
It partakes of the nature of the masque in that the whole composition centres round a compliment to the Queen, Eliza or Zabeta a name which, as Dr. Ward notes, Peele probably borrowed along with one or two other hints from Gascoigne's Kenilworth entertainment of 1575.
On the evening of the third day, however that, in fact, following Gascoigne's visit to the Mairie she had a short letter from Lincoln's Inn. Lord Essendine's lawyers wrote her, begging she would call on them early next day, as they had an important communication to make to her.
I like to mark the time, and connect the course of individual lives with the historic stream, for all classes of thinkers. This was the period when the broadening of gauge in crinolines seemed to demand an agitation for the general enlargement of churches, ball-rooms, and vehicles. But Anna Gascoigne's figure would only allow the size of skirt manufactured for young ladies of fourteen.
At a small common table in the centre of the room sat Gascoigne's judge, with the same cold face, only darkened now by a frown. "Once more," he said, abruptly "will you confess your crime?" Gascoigne looked at him contemptuously, but held his tongue. "Do you still refuse? Do you still obstinately persist in remaining dumb? Very well, we shall see."
It might have been weak, unworthy a woman of spirit; but Christian was, in one sense not Miss Gascoigne's still a very child. And most childlike in their passionate bitterness, their keen sense of injustice, were the tears she shed in her own room, alone. For she did not go to Dr. Grey: why should she? Her complaints could only wound him: and somehow she scorned to complain.
Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, and then laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, and was surprised at himself when he found that he had so done. "I should like to argue the point," thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the letter on the table, and went into Gascoigne's room, displeased with his father and with himself.
Captain Wilson came on board, and found that Mr Sawbridge could communicate all the particulars of which he had not been acquainted by Jack; and after they had read over Gascoigne's letter in the cabin, and interrogated Mr Tallboys, who was sent down under an arrest, they gave free vent to their mirth. "Upon my soul, there's no end to Mr Easy's adventures," said the captain.
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