The Complete Novels: The history of Clarissa Harlowe

Voorkant
W. Heinemann, 1902

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Pagina 258 - A horrid hole of a house, in an alley they call a court ; stairs wretchedly narrow, even to the first-floor rooms : And into a den they led me, with broken walls, which had been papered, as I saw by a multitude of tacks, and some torn bits held on by the rusty heads. The floor indeed was clean, but the ceiling was smoked with variety of figures, and initials of names, that had been the woful employment of wretches who had no other way to amuse themselves.
Pagina 258 - An old half-barred stove grate was in the chimney; and in that a large stone bottle without a neck, filled with baleful yew, as an ever-green, withered southernwood, dead sweet-briar, and sprigs of rue in flower. To finish the shocking description, in a dark nook stood an old broken-bottomed cane couch, without a squab, or coverlid, sunk at one corner, and unmortised by the failing of one of its worm-eaten legs, which lay in two pieces under the wretched piece of furniture it could no longer support.
Pagina 109 - I will shake it off, if possible ; and why should I not, since I think, except one wretch, I hate nothing so much ? Self, then, be banished from self...
Pagina 258 - The windows dark and double-barred ; the tops boarded up to save mending; and only a little four-paned eyelethole of a casement to let in air; more, however, coming in at broken panes than could come in at that. Four old Turkey-worked chairs, bursten-bottomed, tilestuffing staring out.
Pagina 289 - Goddard, at the other window: We can do nothing here (speaking low), but by cordials and nourishment. What friends has the lady ? She seems to be a person of condition ; and, ill as she is, a very fine woman. A single lady, I presume ? I whisperingly told him she was. That there were extraordinary...
Pagina 6 - Twill be a mercy, said she, the highest act of mercy you can do, to kill me outright upon this spot — This happy spot, as I will, in my last moments, call it ! — Then, baring, with a still more frantic violence, part of her enchanting neck — Here, here, said the soul-harrowing Beauty, let thy pointed mercy enter...

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