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The answer sprung quickly to his lips: "The one great point for which I am striving possession of Whitestone Hall;" but he was too diplomatic to utter the words. She saw a lurid light in his eyes. "You shall be my wife," he said, gloomily. "If you have been cherishing any hope of winning Rex Lyon, abandon it at once.
Oh, Father above, pity her! She had no mother's gentle voice to guide her, no father's strong breast to weep upon, no sister's soothing presence. She was so young and so pitifully lonely, and Rex had drifted out of her life forever, believing her oh, bitterest of thoughts! believing her false and sinful.
What Oliver Wendell Holmes called 'the Robinson Crusoe touches' in the story including the experiences of the marooned party at Macquarie Harbour, and those of Rex in his escape through the Devil's Blowhole also help to leave with the reader of the novel an ineffaceable memory. What are the special qualities that constitute the permanent charm of Henry Kingsley's early novels?
He is younger than you, Herr von Herr Rex and perhaps he is more sensitive. 'Perhaps, replied Rex thoughtfully. 'Would he care to see me? 'I have no doubt that is he may possibly be tired she hesitated. Rex's stony eyes examined her face attentively. 'You have had an interview with him, he said in a tone of conviction, 'and you have talked about this dreadful matter.
Johnny's making a new one for Rex." It was one of the vexing problems of Diane's nomadic life, just how to treat Mr. Philip Poynter. It was increasingly difficult to ignore or quarrel with him for his memory was too alarmingly porous to cherish a grudge or resentment. When a man has had a bump upon his only head, held Mr. Poynter, things are apt to slip away from him.
She raised up her white hands pleadingly as though she would fain pierce with her wrongs the blue skies, and reach the great White Throne. "I must be going mad," she said. "Why did Rex seek me out?" she cried, in anguish. "Why did Heaven let me love him so madly, and my whole life be darkened by living apart from him if I am to live?
"The tide covers the only way out of the cavern." "Can't you dive through it?" said Will Staples. "No, nor you neither," said Rex, shuddering at the thought of trusting himself to that horrible whirlpool. "What's to be done? You can't come down that wall." "Wait until morning," returned Rex coolly. "It will be dead low tide at seven o'clock. You must send a boat at six, or there-abouts.
He called to his bloodhounds and said, 'Sic 'im, Rex; ketch 'im Bull, but by that time I was wadin' in the crick. I run 'long till I cum to that big white oak which grows by the crick where it makes a turn north, and I jumped and caught a big branch an' pulled myself up into the tree.
The boat, emerging from the archway, entered the pool of the Blow-hole, and, held with the full strength of the party, remained stationary. John Rex watched Burgess scan the rocks and eddies, saw him signal to McNab, and then, with much relief, beheld the boat's head brought round to the sea-board.
The historical aspect of Christianity, as arising in the Life, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord, would demand a separate treatise. This would, in part, be concerned with the attempts to find in the narratives concerning our Lord, a large admixture of the mythology and ritual connected with the sacrificed Rex Nemorensis, and whatever else survives in peasant folk-lore of spring and harvest.
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