Belinda: A Novel, Том 3

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Richard Bentley and son, 1883

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Стр. 46 - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so; and for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own No other function. Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens.
Стр. 79 - I have always understood, upon your own authority, that you were indifferent to, if not averse from, amusements," he answers irritably. " Not now — not now ! " she cries feverishly. " Even if I were so formerly, I am not now ; and even if I were — to be alone for four months ! " "You exaggerate grossly," returns he sharply. "There are many residents who do not leave Oxbridge until the end of July, and many who return at the beginning of September." " They will do me no good," she says excitedly....
Стр. 48 - How entrancingly sweet and merry sound the nonsensical old words across the water ! Belinda and Eivers must needs follow them to the rendezvous — the little rural Trout Inn, where they are to have tea. It is brought out to them, in an arbour overlooking the stream, by a stout wench ; thick bread and butter, great wedges of plain cake ; a tea-set where no two articles are of the same make or...
Стр. 35 - As I was to break to Mr. Forth that you meant to jilt him? thank you ! I think not ! " It is true that the last day has come ; and the last excursion. All through the previous night, all morning, Belinda has been dogged by the icy terror — no weaker word suffices — that something may occur to prevent it. She has asked after the Professor's organs, with a solicitude whose treachery makes her blush. The very unbearableness of the idea lends it a horrid probability. In this our life are not the...
Стр. 118 - Gemiith so heiter bin : welche Freude steht mir bevor da mich Traurigkeit so niederdriickt ? " CAN it be possible that August is here? Not even early August — July's hot equivalent — but late August, that has shaken hands with September. The mornings have a taste of autumn; though high summer still rules the noons; and as Belinda paces along her garden walk, the damp dews wet her gown, and the swinging gossamers tickle her nose. Oxbridge is at its emptiest. In a week or so people will be beginning...

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