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Fiction Books
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by:
Anthony Trollope
THE RAY FAMILY. There are women who cannot grow alone as standard trees;—for whom the support and warmth of some wall, some paling, some post, is absolutely necessary;—who, in their growth, will bend and incline themselves towards some such prop for their life, creeping with their tendrils along the ground till they reach it when the circumstances of life have brought no such prop within their...
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CHAPTER I THE FAMILY TREE 'Ye'd better let me gang doon wi' the wig, Miss Kirsty,' said Peggy, the 'serving-lass' in the household of Mr. James Ross, writer, of the Castlehill. 'Oh no! I'd as leif take it doon mysel' to Allan Ramsay's, for the sake o' the walk and the bit crack wi' the canty callant,' replied the young lady, a blush...
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by:
Gaston Leroux
CHAPTER I. In Which We Begin Not to Understand It is not without a certain emotion that I begin to recount here the extraordinary adventures of Joseph Rouletabille. Down to the present time he had so firmly opposed my doing it that I had come to despair of ever publishing the most curious of police stories of the past fifteen years. I had even imagined that the public would never know the whole truth...
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by:
S. Mukerji
HIS DEAD WIFE'S PHOTOGRAPH. This story created a sensation when it was first told. It appeared in the papers and many big Physicists and Natural Philosophers were, at least so they thought, able to explain the phenomenon. I shall narrate the event and also tell the reader what explanation was given, and let him draw his own conclusions. This was what happened. A friend of mine, a clerk in the same...
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CHAPTER I. WHY NELLIE SHOWS NED ROUND. Nellie was waiting for Ned, not in the best of humours. "I suppose he'll get drunk to celebrate it," she was saying, energetically drying the last cup with a corner of the damp cloth. "And I suppose she feels as though it's something to be very glad and proud about." "Well, Nellie," answered the woman who had been rinsing the...
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by:
Dom
The nectar is sweet if the heart so dares never for the meek where riskiness stares Just risking for a sign It won't stay when you stayGoes when you're own your toesThe rewards are from the chaseReach for it but never in hasteNothing does like it does By Faith we hope and prayEvents roll out and layGrasp for handles in a mazeReadiness with a braceI'll take it in if I may The nectar is...
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by:
W. H. Blake
CHAPTER I Ite, missa est The door opened, and the men of the congregation began to come out of the church at Peribonka. A moment earlier it had seemed quite deserted, this church set by the roadside on the high bank of the Peribonka, whose icy snow-covered surface was like a winding strip of plain. The snow lay deep upon road and fields, for the April sun was powerless to send warmth through the gray...
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by:
Frank Riley
"... Continued fair weather and the unusual circumstances of the execution promise a turn-away crowd of more than 100,000 spectators by Court time. All unreserved tent space has been sold out for several days. Next news at...." Sir Jacques de Carougne, Lord High Executioner for the Seventh Judicial District, spun the dial on the instrument panel of his single-seater rocket, but the vidcasts...
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by:
Charles Collins
BARBOX BROTHERS I “Guard! What place is this?” “Mugby Junction, sir.” “A windy place!” “Yes, it mostly is, sir.” “And looks comfortless indeed!” “Yes, it generally does, sir.” “Is it a rainy night still?” “Pours, sir.” “Open the door. I’ll get out.” “You’ll have, sir,” said the guard, glistening with drops of wet, and looking at the tearful face of his...
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CHAPTER I EAST OF THE SETTING SUN Far off in the mountain lands, somewhere to the east of the setting sun, lies the principality of Graustark, serene relic of rare old feudal days. The traveler reaches the little domain after an arduous, sometimes perilous journey from the great European capitals, whether they be north or south or west—never east. He crosses great rivers and wide plains; he winds...
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