Select Novels, Том 4

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1844
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Стр. 169 - Swallowed up in one phase or other of its immensity, towards which they seemed impelled by a desperate fascination, they never returned. Food for the hospitals, the churchyards, the prisons, the river, fever, madness, vice, and death, — they passed on to the monster, roaring in the distance, and were lost.
Стр. 80 - Paul closed his eyes with those words, and fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was high, and the broad day was clear and warm. He lay a little, looking at the windows, which were open, and the curtains rustling in the air, and waving to and fro ; then he said, "Floy, is it to-morrow? — is she come ? " Some one seemed to go in quest of her ; perhaps it was Susan.
Стр. 23 - There were a hundred thousand shapes and substances of incompleteness, wildly mingled out of their places, upside down, burrowing in the earth, aspiring in the air, mouldering in the water, and unintelligible as any dream.
Стр. 224 - Oh for a good spirit who would take the house-tops off, with a more potent and benignant hand than the lame demon in the tale, and show a Christian people what dark shapes issue from amidst their homes, to swell the retinue of the Destroying Angel as he moves forth among them...
Стр. 79 - But a word from Florence, who was always at his side, restored him to himself; and leaning his poor head upon her breast, he told Floy of his dream, and smiled.
Стр. 79 - His fancy had a strange tendency to wander to the river which he knew was flowing through the great city ; and now he thought how black it was, and how deep it would look, reflecting the hosts of stars — and more than all, how steadily it rolled away to meet the sea.
Стр. 224 - ... lowering in a dense black cloud above such haunts, and rolling slowly on to corrupt the better portions of a town. But if the moral pestilence that rises with, them, and in the eternal laws of outraged Nature, is inseparable from them, could be made discernible too, how terrible the revelation...
Стр. 102 - The very speed at which the train was whirled along, mocked the swift course of the young life that had been borne away so steadily and so inexorably to its fore-doomed end. The power that forced itself upon its iron way — its own — defiant of all paths and roads, piercing through the heart of every obstacle, and dragging living creatures of all classes, ages, and degrees behind it, was a type of the triumphant monster, Death.
Стр. 80 - He asked incredulously, as if he had some vision of a face before him. "Oh yes, dear!" '' Whose, Floy?"
Стр. 230 - She did not sink down at his feet : she did not shut out the sight of him with her trembling hands ; she did not weep; she did not utter one word of reproach. But she looked at him, and a cry of desolation issued from her heart. For, as she looked, she saw him murdering that fond idea to which she had held in spite of him. She saw his cruelty, neglect, and hatred dominant above it, and stamping it down. She saw she had no father upon earth, and ran out, orphaned, from his house.

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