Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
Janet was troubled because she could not remember who the man was, although she recognized his bold profile, his voice and gestures.... At length one of the women said something in a low tone, and he looked around quickly and crossed the room. "Why, it's you!" he said, and suddenly she recalled his name. "Mr. Insall!"
You may be typewriting his manuscripts. And then, I am a widow, and often rather lonely you could come in and read to me occasionally." "But I've never read anything." "How fortunate!" said Insall, who had entered the doorway in time to hear Janet's exclamation. "More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn't read." Mrs. Maturin laughed. But Insall waved his hand deprecatingly.
She, too, took Janet's hand. "Have you come to help us?" she asked. And Janet said: "Oh, I'd like to, but I have other work." "Come in and see us again," said Insall, and Janet, promising, took her leave.... "Who is she, Brooks?" Mrs. Maturin asked, when Janet had gone. "Well," he answered, "I don't know. What does it matter?" Mrs. Maturin smiled. "I should say that it did matter," she replied.
Brocklehurst had an air about her that was disconcerting! Janet, however, seemed composed as she sat down. "I'm afraid I don't know very much. Maybe you will tell me something, first." "Why, certainly," said Mrs. Brocklehurst, sweetly when she had got her breath. "Who is that man?" Janet asked. "Whom do you mean Mr. Insall?" "Is that his name? I didn't know.
But I insist on saying she's your type she's the kind of a person artists do dig up and marry only better than most of them, far better." "Dig up?" said Insall. "Well, you know I'm not a snob I only mean that she seems to be one of the surprising anomalies that sometimes occur in what shall I say? in the working-classes. I do feel like a snob when I say that. But what is it?
And knowing many of the verses by heart, she would watch Janet's face, framed in the soft dark hair that fell in two long plaits over her shoulders. For Janet little guessed the thought that went into the choosing of these books, nor could she know of the hours spent by this lady pondering over library shelves or consulting eagerly with Brooks Insall.
Once more a gleam of amusement from Insall saved Janet, had the effect of compelling her to meet the affair somewhat after his own manner. He seemed to be putting the words into her mouth, and she even smiled a little, as she spoke. "You never can tell what factory girls do look like in these days," she observed mischievously. "That's so," Mrs.
"It's hard to understand such a terrible religion!" she cried. "I don't see how those old settlers could believe in it, when there are such beautiful things in the world, if we only open our eyes and look for them. Oh Mr. Insall, I wish I could tell you how I felt when I read your story, and when Mrs. Maturin read me those other books of yours."
"It's hard to understand such a terrible religion!" she cried. "I don't see how those old settlers could believe in it, when there are such beautiful things in the world, if we only open our eyes and look for them. Oh Mr. Insall, I wish I could tell you how I felt when I read your story, and when Mrs. Maturin read me those other books of yours."
She, too, paused to let her gaze linger upon Insall laughing and chatting with the children as they ate. "He has such a splendid, `out-door' look don't you think? And he's clever with his hands he bought an old abandoned farmhouse in Silliston and made it all over himself until it looks as if one of our great-great-grandfathers had just stepped out of it to shoot an Indian only much prettier.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking