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Robert Barr
Robert Barr (1849-1912) was a Scottish-Canadian author known for his witty and humorous short stories and novels. He co-founded the influential literary magazine "The Idler" with Jerome K. Jerome, where many of his works were published. Barr's notable works include "The Mutable Many" and "In a Steamer Chair and Other Stories," which often featured intricate plots and clever twists.
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Robert Barr
The King Intervenes Late evening had fallen on the grey walls of Stirling Castle, and dark night on the town itself, where narrow streets and high gables gave early welcome to the mirk, while the westward-facing turrets of the castle still reflected the departing glory of the sky. With some suggestion of stealth in his movements, a young man picked his way through the thickening gloom of the streets....
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Robert Barr
CHAPTER I THE INCIDENT AT THE BANK IN the public room of the Sixth National Bank at Bar Harbor in Maine, Lieutenant Alan Drummond, H.M.S. "Consternation," stood aside to give precedence to a lady. The Lieutenant had visited the bank for the purpose of changing several crisp white Bank of England notes into the currency of the country he was then visiting. The lady did not appear to notice...
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Robert Barr
CHAPTER I. The managing editor of the New York Argus sat at his desk with a deep frown on his face, looking out from under his shaggy eyebrows at the young man who had just thrown a huge fur overcoat on the back of one chair, while he sat down himself on another. 'I got your telegram,' began the editor. 'Am I to understand from it that you have failed?' 'Yes, sir,'...
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Robert Barr
CHAPTER I. "My dear," said William Brenton to his wife, "do you think I shall be missed if I go upstairs for a while? I am not feeling at all well." [Illustration: "Do you think I shall be missed?"] "Oh, I'm so sorry, Will," replied Alice, looking concerned; "I will tell them you are indisposed." "No, don't do that," was the answer; "they...
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Robert Barr
THE FIRST DAY. Mr. George Morris stood with his arms folded on the bulwarks of the steamship City of Buffalo, and gazed down into the water. All around him was the bustle and hurry of passengers embarking, with friends bidding good-bye. Among the throng, here and there, the hardworking men of the steamer were getting things in order for the coming voyage. Trunks were piled up in great heaps ready to be...
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Robert Barr
CHAPTER I. In the marble-floored vestibule of the Metropolitan Grand Hotel in Buffalo, Professor Stillson Renmark stood and looked about him with the anxious manner of a person unused to the gaudy splendor of the modern American house of entertainment. The professor had paused halfway between the door and the marble counter, because he began to fear that he had arrived at an inopportune time, that...
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Robert Barr
CHAPTER I. JENNIE MAKES HER TOILETTE AND THE ACQUAINTANCE OF A PORTER. Miss Jennie Baxter, with several final and dainty touches that put to rights her hat and dress—a little pull here and a pat there—regarded herself with some complacency in the large mirror that was set before her, as indeed she had every right to do, for she was an exceedingly pretty girl. It is natural that handsome young women...
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Robert Barr
I.—LORD STRANLEIGH ALL AT SEA. A few minutes before noon on a hot summer day, Edmund Trevelyan walked up the gang-plank of the steamship, at that moment the largest Atlantic liner afloat. Exactly at the stroke of twelve she would leave Southampton for Cherbourg, then proceed across to Queenstown, and finally would make a bee-line west for New York. Trevelyan was costumed in rough tweed of subdued...
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Robert Barr
REVENGE! AN ALPINE DIVORCE. In some natures there are no half-tones; nothing but raw primary colours. John Bodman was a man who was always at one extreme or the other. This probably would have mattered little had he not married a wife whose nature was an exact duplicate of his own. Doubtless there exists in this world precisely the right woman for any given man to marry and vice versâ; but when you...
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Robert Barr
THE WOMAN OF STONE. Lurine, was pretty, petite, and eighteen. She had a nice situation at the Pharmacie de Siam, in the Rue St. Honoré. She had no one dependent upon her, and all the money she earned was her own. Her dress was of cheap material perhaps, but it was cut and fitted with that daintiness of perfection which seems to be the natural gift of the Parisienne, so that one never thought of the...
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