The woman in white

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Selected pages

Contents

I
1
II
2
III
4
IV
11
V
19
VI
20
VII
26
VIII
32
XXIX
235
XXX
246
XXXI
260
XXXII
264
XXXIII
279
XXXIV
294
XXXV
312
XXXVI
322

IX
44
X
48
XI
55
XII
61
XIII
68
XIV
79
XV
85
XVI
95
XVII
102
XVIII
110
XIX
118
XX
123
XXI
137
XXII
150
XXIII
161
XXIV
173
XXV
186
XXVI
198
XXVII
206
XXVIII
224
XXXVII
324
XXXVIII
337
XXXIX
343
XL
353
XLI
358
XLII
364
XLIII
374
XLIV
386
XLV
395
XLVI
409
XLVII
415
XLVIII
425
XLIX
428
L
437
LI
442
LII
447
LIII
455
LIV
460
LV
483
LVI
489

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Page 256 - Look here, Fosco, you and I have known each other for a long time; and if you have helped me out of one or two scrapes before this, I have done the best I could to help you in return, as far as money would go. We have made as many friendly sacrifices, on both sides, as men could ; but we have had our secrets from each other, of course — haven't we?
Page 323 - From thousands on thousands of miles away; through forest and wilderness, where companions stronger than I had fallen by my side; through peril of death thrice renewed, and thrice escaped, the Hand that leads men on the dark road to the future had led me to meet that time. Forlorn and disowned, sorely tried and sadly changed; her beauty faded, her mind clouded; robbed of her station in the world, of her place among living creatures...
Page 169 - The cockatoo, a most vicious and treacherous bird towards every one else, absolutely seems to love him. When he lets it out of its cage, it hops on to his knee, and claws its way up his great big body, and rubs its top-knot against his sallow double chin in the most caressing manner imaginable. He has only to set the doors of the canaries' cages open, and to call them, and the pretty little cleverly trained creatures perch fearlessly on his hand, mount his fat outstretched fingers one by one, when...
Page 37 - ... by any of us except when our minds are most indolent and most unoccupied. How much share have the attractions of Nature ever had in the pleasurable or painful interests and emotions of ourselves or our friends?
Page 21 - ... is beauty incomplete. To see such a face as this set on shoulders that a sculptor would have longed to model — to be charmed by the modest graces of action through which the symmetrical limbs betrayed their beauty when they moved, and then to be almost repelled by the masculine form and masculine look of the features in which the...
Page 163 - Marian!" she said, suddenly seating herself on a footstool at my knees, and looking up earnestly in my face, "promise you will never marry, and leave me. It is selfish to say so, but you are so much better off as a single woman. — unless — unless you are very fond of your husband — but you won't be very fond of anybody but me, will you?
Page 413 - ... indulgence, even at the small cost of a double railway journey in the carriages of the second class. The next day — the day immediately following the Inquest — was left at my own disposal. I began the morning by again applying at the postoffice for my regular report from Marian. It was waiting for me, as before, and it was written throughout in good spirits. I read the letter thankfully; and then set forth, with my mind at ease for the day, to go to Old Welmingham, and to view the scene of...
Page 171 - Italy again; the Count having, oddly enough, not crossed the frontiers of his native country for years past. Perhaps he has been made the victim of some political persecution ? At all events, he seems to be patriotically anxious not to lose sight of any of his own countrymen who may happen to be in England. On the evening of his arrival, he asked how far we were from the nearest town, and whether we knew of any Italian gentlemen who might happen to be settled there. He is certainly in correspondence...
Page 1 - Thus, the story here presented will be told by more than one pen, as the story of an offence against the laws is told in Court by more than one witness — with the same object in both cases, to present the truth always in its most direct and most intelligible aspect...
Page 409 - My eyes dropped slowly. At first, I saw nothing under them but a coarse canvas cloth. The dripping of the rain on it was audible in the dreadful silence. I looked up, along the cloth ; and there at the end, stark and grim and black, in the yellow light — there, was his dead face. So, for the first and last time, I saw him. So the Visitation of God ruled it that he and I should meet.

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