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Updated: June 6, 2025
I have read over every word of it, and whenever I have come to a pencil-mark by him, I have paused to dream over that varying and eloquent countenance, the low soft tone of that tender voice, till the book has fallen from my hands, and I have started to find the utterness of my desolation! Hotel, London. For the first time in my life I write to you!
Then, when the last pencil-mark had been made, and the tablets had been closed with a snap of finality, the Rough Red stepped forward. "Ye have finished with this skidway?" asked the foreman in soft cat-tones. "I have," answered FitzPatrick, briefly. "Yo' have forgot to scale one stick." "No." "There is a stick still not marked." "I culled it." "Why?" "It was not sawed straight."
The men came aft to the mainmast, with Mesty at their head, and answered to their names. As the men passed over, the lieutenant made a pencil-mark against ten of them, who appeared the finest seamen; and, when the roll had been called, he ordered those men to get their bags and go into the boat.
I examined the will with the deepest attention, pronounced it perfectly formal in all respects, made a pencil-mark or so in the margin, and thought it rather extraordinary that I knew so much.
I have read over every word of it, and whenever I have come to a pencil-mark by him, I have paused to dream over that varying and eloquent countenance, the low soft tone of that tender voice, till the book has fallen from my hands, and I have started to find the utterness of my desolation! FROM ERASMUS FALKLAND, ESQ., TO LADY EMILY MANDEVILLE. Hotel, London.
It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened The St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye.
It was obvious that some pencil-mark in the corner of each drawing, in all probability containing the name and initials of the artist, had been carefully obliterated. Among the drawings were several sketches of a yacht, which Mr. Ferrers passed over quickly, and without notice.
She tidied his sacred cellar by throwing an empty bluing bottle into the trash bin. She mourned, "It's only the baby that holds me. If Hugh died " She fled upstairs in panic and made sure that nothing had happened to Hugh in these four minutes. She saw a pencil-mark on a window-sill. She had made it on a September day when she had been planning a picnic for Fern Mullins and Erik.
It was simply to say that he sent him round the evening paper, and a book that might interest him, and that he would be at the club at eight-fifteen. He opened The St. James's languidly, and looked through it. A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught his eye. It drew attention to the following paragraph:
"Yes, all that," replied he laughing as he moved his finger on the chart, pointing to another spot at least a couple of inches away from the first pencil-mark; "and we ought to fetch about here, my boy, at noon to-morrow that is, if this wind holds good and no accident happens to us, please God."
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