must have. That was a gram-mar. He had made up his mind that since he could talk he would learn to use the right words. He took a walk of some miles to get a loan of “Kirk-ham’s Gram-mar.” He had no one to
The pain was incredible. It was worse than anything he had ever felt, and it grew ... and then it was gone.
At the unfastening of his chain, Lochinvar King stepped majestically to the floor and for an instant stood gazing up at his master. He stood as might an idealised statue of a collie. Mackellar caught his breath and stared. Then with expert eyes he watched the dog’s perfect action as the kennel man led him up and down for half a dozen steps.
"Is it so shocking?" he asked, with an indulgent smile.
"Always, mum, 'Poor Marian'--savin' your presence, and not meanin' a liberty--is what she do say, miss, and always about 'for her sake' it's done, whatever it is, which I don't know."
CHAPTER XIX NEXT DAY
“Did he say damn?” asked Bud aghast—that such a word should ever come from the Bishop.
pay it, so Lin-coln took it all on him-self, though long years went by ere it was all paid.
"Come," said she, blushing, but straightening up her slim young figure, "do you know that when one loves as—as—"
"Does it not puzzle you that none of us harbors open sores, or coughs up phlegm, or dies of fever?" Kiwa asked, speaking through his daughter's intermediation.
“Delia” ses he “heres a quarter. Now hussle wid me brikfust, will you?”
Not often does one find a man of Hall Caine’s very special gifts endowed with the abilities of a financier. He is as quick and as clever at driving a bargain as a 121Lancashire or Yorkshire mill-owner. There have always been and, I suppose, always will be a large percentage of writers who are constitutionally incapable of looking after their own affairs; they can produce, but they cannot sell. Mr Hall Caine does not belong to these. He, more than any man, contributed to the breakdown of the three-volume novel system. It was he who helped to formulate the Canadian Copyright Laws. With the assistance of Major Pond (who in these days remembers the great Major Pond?) he made tens of thousands of dollars by lecturing to the Americans. He had the acumen and the courage to issue one of his longest novels in two volumes at two shillings net each. He was the first eminent novelist to make a practice of publishing his works in the middle of the August holidays—the supposed “dead” season in the publishing world. He has bought farms in the Isle of Man and made them pay. He has had commercial interests in seaside boarding-houses and has shown a bold but wise enterprise in many of his investments. In other words he has, to his honour, continually exhibited abilities that not one artist in a hundred possesses.
“We sha’n’t know the result till we get The Sunday Chronicle to-morrow,” said X. regretfully.
The blood rose in his dark cheek. He turned to me again, and for a second the dimple twinkled through his gloom. “That’s your answer?详情 ➢
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