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Updated: May 9, 2025
Jerrold's account instead of Mrs. McPherson's, while Grey's own luggage was transported to a little, close, eight-by-twelve apartment, which smelled worse than old Mrs. Meredith's could possibly have smelled with all her burnt brimstone and camphor and chloride of lime.
I have it bound in morocco, with some more of Douglas Jerrold's early transpontine plays, and some AEschylean dramas by Mr Fitzball. I will lend it to you, Mr Borrow, if you like. He was completely conquered, 'Hake! he cried, in a loud voice, regardless of my presence, 'Hake! your friend knows everything. Then he murmured to himself. 'Wonderful man! Knows Ambrose Gwinett!
It was as if she knew that something sad waited for her by the pond at the bottom. She would be safer over there where Jerrold was laughing and shouting. She would play with him and he wouldn't be afraid. The day felt like a Sunday, quiet, quiet, except for the noise of Jerrold's laughter.
Asked from within what they wanted, the reply was somewhat difficult to frame, and in both cases resolved itself into "Oh, about the german;" to which Jerrold's voice was heard to say, "The german's all right. I'll lead if I'm well enough and am not bothered to death meantime; but I've got some private matters to attend to, and am not seeing anybody to-day."
Of few men could you say, that their natural impulses were better, or that, given such a nature and such a fortune, they would have arrived at fifty-four years of age with so young a heart. The last literary event of any magnitude in Jerrold's life was his assuming the editorship of "Lloyd's Newspaper."
The blinds and sills were the only things they had touched up on that front, it seems, and nothing on the sides. Now, on the fresh paint of the colonel's slats are the new imprints of masculine thumb and fingers, and on the sill of the hall window is a footprint that I know to be other than Jerrold's." "Why?"
It was "like trying to catch a weasel asleep and shave his whiskers," however, to use Tom Jerrold's words; for the moment the proa and her consort observed our manoeuvre and saw that we were making for them, round they went too like tops, and sailing right up in the wind's eye, all idea of pursuit on our part was put entirely out of question within the short space of five minutes or so the Malay craft showing that they had the power when they chose to exercise it of going two knots to our one.
He could almost have seized Jerrold's hand and thanked him; but proofs proofs were what he needed. It was not his mind that was to be convinced, it was "society" that must be satisfied of her utter innocence, that it might be enabled to say, "Well, I never for a moment believed a word of it." Link by link the chain of circumstantial evidence must be destroyed, and this was only one.
English literature is rich in such men, in men whose works are cherished for the individuality they reveal. What the Song is in poetry the Essay is in prose. The producer pours out himself in his own way, and cannot be separated even in thought from that which he has produced. Jerrold's characters in plays and novels are interesting to me because they are Jerrold in masquerade.
Admitting the evidence of the ladder, the picture, and the form at the window, ay, the letter, too, I am yet to be convinced of one thing. You must remember that his judgment is biassed by his early experiences. He fancies, that no woman is proof against such fascinations as Jerrold's." "And your belief?" "Is that some women many women are utterly above such a possibility."
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