Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Morfit, then, to confess to her in frankness that, after all these rockets and bonfires " "Why, that's the unfortunate part of the whole affair," said Lord Rokesle. It happened by a rare chance that some of my fellows were on the point of setting out for the mainland from Heriz pier yonder, not from the end of the island whence Harry sailed, so she and her maid embarked instanter.
Simon," he called, loudly, "does that rascal intend to spin out his dying interminably? Charon's waiting, man." From above, "Coming, my Lord," said Simon Orts. The Vicar of Heriz Magna descended the stairway with deliberation.
"No; you are immeasurably far from being worth it. But one does not justify these fancies by mathematics. Good-bye, Anastasia." Holding the door ajar, the Vicar of Heriz Magna heard a horse's hoofs slap their leisurely way down the hillside. Presently the sound died and he turned back into the hall. "A brave woman, that! Oh, a trifling, shallow-hearted jilt, but a brave creature!
As it is, you have your flatterers, your gossip, and your cards; I have my gin. Good-bye, Anastasia." "Simon, why have you done this?" The Vicar of Heriz Magna flung out his hands in a gesture of impotence. "I dare confess now that which even to myself I have never dared confess. I suppose the truth of it is that I have loved you all my life." "I am sorry. I am not worth it, Simon."
So the Vicar of Heriz Magna knelt beside the flesh that had been Lord Rokesle, and there they found him in the morning. LOVE AT MARTINMAS As Played at Tunbridge Wells, April 1, 1750 "He to love an altar built Of twelve vast French romances, neatly gilt.
"Punshon," said Lord Rokesle, "have any boats left the island to-night?" "No, my Lord." "You will see that none do. Also, no man is to leave Stornoway to-night, either for Heriz Magna or the mainland; and nobody is to enter Stornoway. Do you understand, Punshon?" "Yes, my Lord." "If you will pardon me," said Simon Orts, with a grin, "I have an appointment to-night.
LORD ROKESLE, a loose-living, Impoverished nobleman, and loves Lady Allonby. SIMON ORTS, Vicar of Heriz Magna, a debauched fellow, and Rokesle's creature. PUNSHON, servant to Rokesle. LADY ALLONBY, a pleasure-loving, luxurious woman, a widow, and rich. The Mancini Chamber at Stornoway Crag, on Usk. PROEM: The Age and a Product of It
To such a person, enters Simon Orts, chaplain in ordinary to Lord Rokesle, and Vicar of Heriz Magna, one of Lord Rokesle's livings. "Now of a truth," said Simon Orts, "that is curious undeniably that is curious." He stayed at the door for a moment staring back into the ill-lit corridor. Presently he shut the door, and came forward toward the fireplace.
The Vicar of Heriz Magna dispassionately ran over the leaves of his prayer-book, till he had found the marriage service, and then closed the book, his forefinger marking the place. Lord Rokesle stood apart, and with a sly and meditative smile observed them. "Your plea is a remarkable one," said Simon Orts.
And do you think I would boggle at a word? Gad, Simon, I believed you knew me better!" The Vicar of Heriz Magna kept silence for an instant; his eyes were twitching about the hall, in that stealthy way of his. Finally, "It is no use," said he. "A poor knave cannot afford the luxury of honesty. My life is not a valuable one, perhaps, but even vermin have an aversion to death.
Word Of The Day