This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1894 Excerpt: ...was none. The hand in his was very, very cold. The gentle heart, so near his own, had ceased to beat. Then he knew what had happened, and, not daring to look at the quiet face upon the pillow, he rose and blundered stiffly into the middle of the room. He groped his way to the window and threw it wide open, to be met by ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1894 Excerpt: ...was none. The hand in his was very, very cold. The gentle heart, so near his own, had ceased to beat. Then he knew what had happened, and, not daring to look at the quiet face upon the pillow, he rose and blundered stiffly into the middle of the room. He groped his way to the window and threw it wide open, to be met by the phantasmal splendour of the tropic dawn. Far, far away, beyond the velvet outlines of the giant mountains, the glow of light, kindled at the forges of the coming day, grew and deepened, and the morning star, like a little silver lamp, flamed low in the eastern sky. The hopeless beauty, the aching loneliness of it all, struck the bereaved man as with a blow; and he sank down and hid his face from the sun, which rose for him upon an empty world. C. POOR MISS SKEET. Poor Miss Skeet: A PROBLEM. "IF you really want to know how we 1 came to buy that plot in the Protestant cemetery at Rome, the story is easily told. It is a sad one, but rather absurd at the same time." "A thing can hardly be sad and absurd at the same time, Stephanus," said my wife, who was present at the moment. Louisa has been a good wife to me for thirty years and upwards, but she is not, and never was, an imaginative woman; she could never see more than one side of an idea at a time. We were sitting in the library of the vicarage, entertaining an old college friend of mine who had come to stay with us, and with whom it was a great pleasure to talk over the events of the past few years--years in the course of which we had not met. "If you are going to rake up that old story about Miss Skeet," continued my wife, "I am going away. It always puts me out of patience." I said, "Very well, my dear." And Louisa gathered up her work a...
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