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Updated: May 19, 2025
Hichens might be dry inhumanly dry and his methods repellent; but there were the books, after all, and the books held food for her hunger, wine for her thirst. So too the harpsichord held music, though Miss Quiney's touch upon it was formal and lifeless. . . . In these eighteen months Ruth Josselin had been learning eagerly, teaching herself in a hundred ways and by devices of which she wist not.
Now women have to win through men; which means that they must go round about." "But old Hichens?" To herself she might have answered, "He only is allowed to me here. On whom else can I practise to please? But, alas! I practise for a master who never comes!" Aloud she said, "You are excited to-day, Dicky. You have something to tell me." "I should think I had!" "What is it?"
Skag coldly told him that the dog had been owned by Police Commissioner Hichens of Bombay. . . . The deputy regretfully ordered Deenah to continue his narrative, and in the silence afterward, presently spoke the name: "Neela Deo, of course "
And the lady had laughed a little and wiped glistening tears from her death-misted face, for her baby would be not quite alone. So all the servants knew that Nels had owned the child from that day. Now it is not a wise thing to antagonise a body of East Indian servants in matters which they consider sacred; and Police Commissioner Hichens was a lawyer and a judge and a wise man.
"One could hardly imagine a more charming short historical tale.... It is almost classic in its simplicity and dignity." Baltimore News. THE FOLLY OF EUSTACE. By R. S. Hichens, author of "An Imaginative Man," "The Green Carnation," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents. "In each of these stories the author of 'The Green Carnation' shows his hand without intending to.
I do not think that, as a matter of fact, any difference is generally and clearly recognized; but I suggest that it is possible to draw a distinction which might, if accepted, prove serviceable both to critics and to playwrights. Let me illustrate my meaning by an example. In Bella Donna, by Messrs. Robert Hichens and James B. Fagan, we have a murder-story of a not uncommon or improbable type.
"They have come down to the sea to meet him they look over the Atlantic from aloft there and perform in his honour. Who knows?" Across Ruth's inner vision there flashed a memory of Mr. Hichens, black-suited and bald, bending over his Hebrew Bible and expounding a passage of Job: "Doth the eagle mount up at thy command, and make her nest on high?
He is in love." "But with Oreïda! Is it possible?" "Did he not say that she was like the first day after the fast of Ramadan? When an African says that his heart is big with love." The flute went on and on, and I said to myself and to the moon, as I had often said before: "He that is born in the Sahara is an impenetrable mystery." By Robert Hichens
She is all glorious within, her clothing is of wrought gold. She shall be brought unto the King in raiment of needlework: the virgins that be her fellows shall bear her company " "The Hebrew," said Mr. Hichens, blinking over his own text which he had hastily consulted, "would seem to bear you out, or at least to leave the question open.
He abominated the idea but admitted the possibility. She would not be the first person to be the victim of a secret but furious passion for jewels. He recalled a novel of Hichens; not the matter but the central idea. Authors of other races had used the same motive. Well, if his wife had an abnormal streak in her the sooner he found out the truth the better.
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