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Updated: June 8, 2025
I put the half of the broken walking stick through the loop of fishing-line and buckled the leper comfortably to Strickland's bedstead.
Johnson, the proprietress, had a sad story to tell of lost opportunity. After Strickland's death certain of his effects were sold by auction in the market-place at Papeete, and she went to it herself because there was among the truck an American stove she wanted. She paid twenty-seven francs for it. "There were a dozen pictures," she told me, "but they were unframed, and nobody wanted them.
It is due to no accident that when one of his most important works, <i The Woman of Samaria>, was sold at Christie's shortly after the discussion which followed the publication of Mr. Strickland's biography, it fetched POUNDS 235 less than it had done nine months before when it was bought by the distinguished collector whose sudden death had brought it once more under the hammer.
It was a much larger one than he himself was in the habit of using, and he wondered what it did there. He went over to it and leaned it towards him so that he could see the painting. It was a nude. His heart began to beat quickly, for he guessed at once that it was one of Strickland's pictures.
The strangest, Strickland's determination to become a painter, seems to be arbitrary; and though it must have had causes in the circumstances of his life, I am ignorant of them. From his own conversation I was able to glean nothing. If I were writing a novel, rather than narrating such facts as I know of a curious personality, I should have invented much to account for this change of heart.
At the end of the third week of Strickland's leave the result of Strickland's labours labours that had made Mrs. Strickland more indignant against dacoits than any one else came to hand. The police at Peshawur reported that half the Shubkudder Gang were held at Peshawur to account for the possession of some blankets and a horse-bucket.
She declared herself bent on finishing the volume of Miss Strickland's "Queens", which they were reading together, and went on with it till bed-time without intermission, then wished Violet good night without another word. But Violet was no sooner in bed than Theodora came in, in her dressing-gown, and sat down at her feet, looking at her, but hardly answering the few words she ventured to speak.
He certainly had a much better claim than the only other competitor for the confiscated estates, namely, the perjured and despicable Clarence. For Anne's reluctance to marry Richard, and the disguise she assumed, see Miss Strickland's "Life of Anne of Warwick."
Strickland said he only hoped and prayed that they would do this. Before I left I looked into Fleete's room, and saw him lying on his right side, scratching his left breast. Then. I went to bed cold, depressed, and unhappy, at seven o'clock in the morning. At one o'clock I rode over to Strickland's house to inquire after Fleete's head. I imagined that it would be a sore one.
Strickland's servants were attacked at his door by six cavaliers with drawn swords; an attempt was made to break into St. John's bedchamber; Edward, son to the queen of Bohemia, publicly called the ambassadors rogues and dogs; and the young duke of York accidentally meeting St.
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