Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 27, 2025
She had much of the covert coarseness and open impudence of a Levantine, and occasionally said things which made people wonder whether, before she became Amalia Wolfstein, she had not perhaps been well really something very strange somewhere a long way off.
"Hope you're well," murmured Miss Schley, letting her pale eyes rest on Lady Holme for about a quarter of a second, and then becoming acutely attentive to vacancy. Lady Holme was now in front of the pictures. She looked at Miss Schley's portrait with apparent interest, while Mrs. Wolfstein looked at her with an interest that was maliciously real. "Well?" said Mrs. Wolfstein. "Well?"
I'm going with Rupert Carey." "Really!" At this moment Lady Holme's eyes and manner wandered. She had just caught a glimpse of Mrs. Wolfstein, a mass of jewels, and of Pimpernel Schley at the foot of the staircase, had just noticed that the latter happened to be dressed in black. "Bye-bye!" she added. Robin Pierce walked on into the drawing-rooms looking rather preoccupied.
"Stunnin'!" roared Lord Holme, "simply stunnin'!" "Stunnin'! stunnin'!" exclaimed Mr. Laycock; "Rippin'! There's no other word. Simply rippin'!" "The what? The what?" cried Mrs. Ulford. Mrs. Wolfstein bent down, with expansive affection, over Lady Holme's chair, and clasped the left hand which Lady Holme carelessly raised to a level with her shoulder. "You dear person!
Wolfstein, with an undercurrent of laughter. It was very like Lady Holme's look when she was singing. Robin Pierce saw it and pressed his lips together. At this moment the crowd shifted and left a gap through which Lady Holme immediately glided towards Ashley Greaves.
WHEN the last guest had grimaced at her and left the drawing-room, Lady Holme stood with her hand on the mantelpiece, facing a tall mirror. She was alone for the moment. Her husband had accompanied Mrs. Wolfstein downstairs, and Lady Holme could hear his big, booming voice below, interrupted now and then by her impudent soprano.
"You feel the strong link, I hope, Pimpernel?" said Mrs. Wolfstein, with her most violent foreign accent. "Hands across the Herring Pond!" "Mr. Greaves has been too cute for words," she replied. "I wish Lady Holme could cast her eye on them." She looked up at nothing, with a sudden air of seeing something interesting that was happening along way off. "Philadelphia!" murmured Mrs.
We were gladly welcomed at the forest lodge. How truly my uncle and aunt rejoiced at my brother's home-coming could be seen in their eyes, though the mother, who had banished her own son, was cut to the heart by the sight of such another well-grown youth. The evening before guests had come to the lodge his excellency the Lord Justice Wigelois von Wolfstein, and Master Besserer of Ulm.
It's the most comic relationship, and breeds shyness as the West African climate breeds fever." "I know the whole of the West African coast by heart," declared Miss Burns, wagging her head, and moving her brown hands nervously among her knives and forks. "And I never caught anything there." "Not even a husband," murmured Mrs. Wolfstein to Lady Manby.
"Forty-two Cadogan Square, I might be tempted. I came out as a mimic, you know, at Corsher and Byall's in Philadelphia." Miss Schley gazed reflectively upon the brown carpet of Mrs. Wolfstein's boudoir. "Folks said I wasn't bad," she added meditatively. "I think I ought to warn Viola," said Mrs. Wolfstein. She was peculiarly intimate with people of distinction when they weren't there.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking