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Updated: May 3, 2025
Soon they were on the summit of the hill range and below them lay the two glens, and the first breath of the morning came behind from Strone, where dawn threw a wan grey flag across the world.
At last the drumming ceased as the soldiers entered the wood of Strone, still followed by the children. In the silence that fell so suddenly, the country-side seemed solitary and sad. The great distant melancholy hills were themselves again with no jealousy of the wayside trees dreaming on their feet as they swayed in the lullaby wind.
"Do you see yon?" said he, and he broke into a line of a Gaelic air that told his meaning. "Lovers?" I asked. "What do you think yourself?" said he. "She is mighty put about at his hazard," I confessed, reflecting on her tears. "Cousins, ye ken, cousins!" said Splendid, and he put a finger in my side, laughing meaningly. I got home when the day stirred among the mists over Strone.
"Me, I have nossing whatever to do with the matter," he protested. "To me it would seem Mrs. Strone should make the charge." "Well?" mumbled the detective of Shaynon. "How aboutcha?" "Wait," mumbled Shaynon, moving toward the door. "I'll fetch Mrs. Strone." "Don't go without saying good-bye," P. Sybarite admonished him severely. "It isn't pretty manners."
Wishing prosperity and happiness to attend still yourself, worthy Lady, and good family, we are, in the most affectionate manner, 'Dear Sir, 'Your most obliged, affectionate, 'And most humble Servants, 'DUGALL CAMERON, of Strone. DUGALL CAMERON, of Barr. DUGALL CAMERON, of Inveriskvouilline. DUGALL CAMERON, of Invinvalie. 'Strone, 11th March, 1737.
"I am sorry for it," he said at last, in a voice that was scarce his own; "I'm in an agony for it now; and your horse was not round Strone before I could have bit out the tongue that flattered your folly." MacCailein smiled with a solemn pity that sat oddly on the sinister face that was a mask to a complex and pliable soul.
An entrancing story which has seldom been surpassed as a study of feminine character and sentiment. Outlook, London. In no other novel has Mr. Oppenheim created such life-like characters or handled his plot with such admirable force and restraint as in this capital story of the career of masterful Enoch Strone.
The sun was declining; the odours of the traffic of peace blew from the land; one large and ruddy star lit over Strone. The fishers raised their sails, and as their prows beat the sea they chanted the choruses of the wave.
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