MANUEL shouldn't have been employed as a census taker. He wasn't qualified. He couldn't read a map. He didn't know what a map was. He only grinned when they told him that North was at the top. He knew better. But he did write a nice round hand, like a boy's hand. He knew Spanish, and enough English. For the sector that was assigned to him he would not need a map. He knew it... more...

CHAPTER I Finnian, the Abbott of Moville, went southwards and eastwards in great haste. News had come to him in Donegal that there were yet people in his own province who believed in gods that he did not approve of, and the gods that we do not approve of are treated scurvily, even by saintly men. He was told of a powerful gentleman who observed neither Saint's day nor Sunday. "A powerful... more...

"Unexpected obstacle. Please don't come till thirtieth. Anna." All the way from Charing Cross to Dover the train had hammered the words of the telegram into George Darrow's ears, ringing every change of irony on its commonplace syllables: rattling them out like a discharge of musketry, letting them, one by one, drip slowly and coldly into his brain, or shaking, tossing, transposing... more...

PREFACE This monograph could not have been written—in the intimate sense—if the Dowager Countess Russell had not extended a confidence which, I trust, has in no direction been abused. Lady Russell has not only granted me access to her journal and papers as well as the early note-books of her husband, but in many conversations has added the advantage of her own reminiscences. I am also indebted in... more...

Chapter I. Books may be written in all sorts of places. Verbal inspiration may enter the berth of a mariner on board a ship frozen fast in a river in the middle of a town; and since saints are supposed to look benignantly on humble believers, I indulge in the pleasant fancy that the shade of old Flaubert—who imagined himself to be (amongst other things) a descendant of Vikings—might have hovered... more...

THE SHOT It was a still, balmy night in late October. The scent of burned autumn leaves hung in the air, and a hazy moon, showing just over the housetops, deepened the shadows on the streets. Policeman Murphy stopped far a moment, as was his custom, at the corner of Lawrence Avenue and Sheridan Road. He knew that it was about two o'clock in the morning as that was the hour at which he usually... more...

He was just emerging for the hundredth time during the week from the frightening hallucination that had come to plague him, when Kitty Murchinsom came into his office. "It's almost 15:00, Philip," she said. When she had entered, her face had taken on the placid look that everyone wore—unwittingly, but inevitably—the instant they came near Alcorn. Finding Kitty's cool blonde... more...

ACT I. Scene. The Doctor's consulting room. Ground floor, 13 Marmalade Street, Pimlico. (See Scene Plot.) (Aurora. the slavey, discovered laying out Doctor's letters lovingly on his writing table; she kisses each one as she lays it down—all are in blue envelopes.) Aurora. They're all for 'im—the dear doctor. Won't 'e be pleased when 'e comes back and finds all... more...

Royal-Society having been firГ…Вїt conceiv'd and delineated by a Great and Learned Chancellor, which High Office your LordГ…Вїhip deservedly bears; not as an AcquiГ…Вїition of Fortune, but your Intellectual Endowments; [pg] ConГ…Вїpicuous (among other Excellencies) by the Inclination Your LordГ…Вїhip diГ…Вїcovers... more...

MEASURE FOR MEASURE. ACT I. I. 1 Scene I. An apartment in the Duke’s palace. Enter Duke, Escalus, . Duke. Escalus. Escal. My lord. Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse; 5 Since I am to know that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you: then no more . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . as your worth... more...