Excerpt from The Price She Paid: A Novel Henry Gower was dead at sixty-one - the end of a lifelong fraud which never had been suspected, and never would be. With the world, with his acquaintances and neighbors, with his wife and son and daughter, he passed as a generous, warm-hearted, good-natured man, ready at all times to do anything to help anybody, incapable of envy or hatred or meanness. In fact, not once in all his days had he ever thought or done a single thing except for his own comfort. Like all intensely selfish people who are wise, he was cheerful and amiable, because that was...
Excerpt from The Price She Paid: A Novel Henry Gower was dead at sixty-one - the end of a lifelong fraud which never had been suspected, and never...
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This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work was ...
Excerpt from The Grain of Dust: A Novel Into the offices of Lockyer, Sanders, Benchley, Lockyer & Norman, corporation lawyers, there drifted on a December afternoon a girl in search of work at stenography and typewriting. The firm was about the most important and most famous - radical orators often said infamous - in New York. The girl seemed, at a glance, about as unimportant and obscure an atom as the city hid in its vast ferment. She was blonde - tawny hair, fair skin, blue eyes. Aside from this hardly conclusive mark of identity there was nothing positive, nothing definite, about her....
Excerpt from The Grain of Dust: A Novel Into the offices of Lockyer, Sanders, Benchley, Lockyer & Norman, corporation lawyers, there drifted on a ...
Even now I cannot realize that he is dead, and often in the city streets-on Fifth Avenue in particular-I find myself glancing ahead for a glimpse of the tall, boyish, familiar figure-experience once again a flash of the old happy expectancy. I have lived in many lands, and have known men. I never knew a finer man than Graham Phillips. His were the clearest, bluest, most honest eyes I ever saw-eyes that scorned untruth-eyes that penetrated all sham. In repose his handsome features were a trifle stern-and the magic of his smile was the more wonderful-such a sunny, youthful, engaging smile. His...
Even now I cannot realize that he is dead, and often in the city streets-on Fifth Avenue in particular-I find myself glancing ahead for a glimpse of t...
Excerpt from The Conflict: A Novel Four years at Wellesley; two years about equally divided among Paris, Dresden and Florence. And now Jane Hastings was at home again. At home in the unchanged house - spacious, old-fashioned - looking down from its steeply sloping lawns and terraced gardens upon the sooty, smoky activities of Remsen City, looking out upon a charming panorama of hills and valleys in the heart of South Central Indiana. Six years of striving in the East and abroad to satisfy the restless energy she inherited from her father; and here she was, as restless as ever - yet with...
Excerpt from The Conflict: A Novel Four years at Wellesley; two years about equally divided among Paris, Dresden and Florence. And now Jane Hastin...
