United States or United States Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
One glance at the girl's tired eyes a weariness somehow enhanced in effect by the gold sheen of her hair confirmed the truth of her words. "You've changed, Ethel, since Sutcliffe," she said. "Yes, I've changed," said Ethel Wing, and the weariness was in her voice, too. "I've had too much, Honora. Life was all glitter, like a Christmas tree, when I left Sutcliffe. I had no heart.
He was asking Roddy when he was coming to play tennis, and whether his sister played. They might turn up tomorrow. The light played on his curling, handsome smile. He hoped she liked Rathdale. "She only came yesterday," Roddy said. "Well come along to-morrow. About four o'clock. I'll tell my wife." And Roddy said, "Thanks," as if it choked him. Mr. Sutcliffe went on down the hill.
She was still the same modest, self-effacing, helpful roommate, but in Honora's eyes she had changed Honora could no longer separate her image from the vision of Silverdale. And, if the naked truth must be told, it was due to Silverdale that Susan owes the honour of her first mention in those descriptive letters from Sutcliffe, which Aunt Mary has kept to this day.
She had left off watching for the old red mail-cart to come round the corner at the bottom. Sometimes, at long intervals, there would be a letter for her from Aunt Lavvy or Dan or Mrs. Sutcliffe. She couldn't tell when it would come, but she knew on what days the long trolleys would stop by Mr.
I thought it would curl all over my head, and it didn't curl." "It curls at the tips," Mr. Sutcliffe said. "I like it. Makes you look like a jolly boy, instead of a dreadful, unapproachable young lady. A little San Giovanni. A little San Giovanni." That was his trick: caressing his own words as if he liked them. She wondered what, deep down inside him, he was really like. "Mr.
* Fulton to Barlow, quoted in Sutcliffe, "Robert Fulton and the Clermont", p. 124. Just at this time Fulton wrote ordering an engine from Boulton and Watt to be transported to America. The order was at first refused, as it was then the shortsighted policy of the British Government to maintain a monopoly of mechanical contrivances.
Mark's eyes kept up their puzzled stare. "What's been happening?" he said. "What's the matter? Everywhere I go there's a mystery. There was a mystery at Ilford. About Dan. And about poor Charlotte. I come down here and there's a mystery about some people called Sutcliffe. And a mystery about Mary." He laughed again. "Minky seems to be in disgrace, as if she'd done something.... It's awfully queer.
One glance at the girl's tired eyes a weariness somehow enhanced in effect by the gold sheen of her hair confirmed the truth of her words. "You've changed, Ethel, since Sutcliffe," she said. "Yes, I've changed," said Ethel Wing, and the weariness was in her voice, too. "I've had too much, Honora. Life was all glitter, like a Christmas tree, when I left Sutcliffe. I had no heart.
Sutcliffe, handsome with his boney, high-jointed nose and narrow jaw, thrust out, incongruously fierce, under his calm, clean upper lip, shaved to show how beautiful it was. His black blue eyes were set as carefully in their lids as a woman's. He wore his hair rather long. One lock had got loose and hung before his ear like a high whisker.
Cousin Eleanor, with a delightful sense of wrong-doing, yielded to the temptation to adorn her; and the saleswomen, who knew Mrs. Hanbury, made indiscreet-remarks. Such a figure and such a face, and just enough of height! Two new gowns were ordered, to be tried on at Sutcliffe, and as many hats, and an ulster, and heaven knows what else. Memory fails.
Word Of The Day