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  • Format: ePub

Excerpt: ?COME, Dulcie! Dulcie, my dear! Not ready yet?? A spice of good-humored impatience breathed through the rich bass tones. George Rutherford stood in the hall of a somewhat primitive Welsh hotel. The door opening into a sitting-room, on one side, displayed sundry ladies and gentlemen, occupied or non-occupied in various ways. The door opening into the kitchen, on the other side, displayed a waiter or two in shirtsleeves, coming and going. The front door, opening on the hotel grounds, displayed a bare, gravelly space, with shrubs around, a short avenue of trees beyond, and glimpses of…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Excerpt: ?COME, Dulcie! Dulcie, my dear! Not ready yet?? A spice of good-humored impatience breathed through the rich bass tones. George Rutherford stood in the hall of a somewhat primitive Welsh hotel. The door opening into a sitting-room, on one side, displayed sundry ladies and gentlemen, occupied or non-occupied in various ways. The door opening into the kitchen, on the other side, displayed a waiter or two in shirtsleeves, coming and going. The front door, opening on the hotel grounds, displayed a bare, gravelly space, with shrubs around, a short avenue of trees beyond, and glimpses of distant hills softly outlined against a blue sky. Mr. Rutherford was a man of perhaps five or six-and-thirty years, unusually tall and massive in make, yet not stout. Honest brown eyes looked out from beneath a brow of remarkable breadth, which was framed in an abundant growth of tawny hair, fine as silk in texture. Moustache and beard, of a somewhat darker hue than the hair upon his head, almost hid a mouth of characteristic and beautiful outlines. He stood at the foot of the staircase, grasping a huge, crook-handled walking stick as tall as himself; and blissfully unconscious of, or indifferent to, the attention he was attracting from the inmates of the drawing-room, while he called again, in tones ?not loud, but deep? ? ?Dulcie, my dear, make haste!?

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Autorenporträt
The British author Agnes Giberne lived from November 19, 1845, to August 20, 1939. She wrote a lot of novels and science papers. Her stories were typical of Victorian Christian stories for kids that had religious or moral themes. For kids, she wrote science books, and she also wrote a few historical stories and a well-known biography. Giberne was born in Belgaum, Karnataka, India. Her parents were Captain Charles Giberne (16 June 1808 - 21 December 1902) of the Bengal Native Infantry and Lydia Mary Wilson (c. 1816 - 20 May 1890). The Huguenots in her family tree came from Languedoc in France. The "de Gibernes" lived in Chateau de Gibertain. Charles Giberne came from a big family. Besides his brother, he had eight sisters. It was also where three of his brothers served. The wedding took place at St. Mary the Virgin, Walthamstow, on December 11, 1838, and Giberne was born. There is some doubt about how many brothers Giberne had. The India Family History and Families in British India Society records at the British Library show. By the 1851 census, Lydia Mary was living with the Rector of Eyam in Derbyshire and his family at Beach in Weston-super-Mare with her four children who were still alive.