Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 53

THE TOOL

It was clear, however, that I should not find peace sitting by the fire in the parlour. The clock had struck half-past nine; I took my candle from the sideboard and went upstairs to bed.
My room was much the same as other rooms in country inns, but there was a hanging bookshelf in the corner, holding half a dozen books: Dr. Meiklejohn's Sermons in Advent, Gulliver's Travels, Yorkshire Anecdotes, The House by the Sea, and two bound volumes, one of the Boy's Own Paper, and the other of some American magazine. The latter I took down and, turning over the pages, saw that the type was good and that the stories were illustrated by some fine half-tone engravings. I got into bed and, placing the candle on the chair by my side, began to read. The story dealt with a young Methodist minister in a New England town. The girl he loved had promised herself in marriage to a sailor, who had been washed ashore from a stranded brig, bound for Baltimore from Smyrna. Maddened by the girl's love for the foreigner, he forged a letter arranging for a rendezvous on the sand dunes, met his rival there, and shot him through the heart. There was nothing remarkable about the story. I read it to the end unmoved. But on turning the last page over, I came across a full-page illustration, that held me fascinated.
It showed the scene on the dunes; the minister in his suit of black gazing down on the dead body of the Syrian sailor, just as I had stood that afternoon, and underneath were the words, taken from the letterpress of the story:
What would he not have given to blot out the sight from his memory?
I suppose that up to the time of which I am writing, my life had been a very ordinary one, filled with ordinary weekday pleasures and cares, regulated by ordinary routine. Within the space of a few hours I had experienced two great emotional shocks, the sudden discovery of the body of the moor, and this inexplicable loss of memory. Each by itself had proved sufficiently disturbing, but I had at least looked upon them as

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE It was clear, however, that I should not find peace sitting by what is fire in what is parlour. what is clock had struck half-past nine; I took my candle from what is sideboard and went upstairs to bed. My room was much what is same as other rooms in country inns, but there was a hanging bookshelf in what is corner, holding half a dozen books: Dr. Meiklejohn's Sermons in Advent, Gulliver's Travels, Yorkshire Anecdotes, what is House by what is Sea, and two bound volumes, one of what is Boy's Own Paper, and what is other of some American magazine. what is latter I took down and, turning over what is pages, saw that what is type was good and that what is stories were illustrated by some fine half-tone engravings. I got into bed and, placing what is candle on what is chair by my side, began to read. what is story dealt with a young Methodist minister in a New England town. what is girl he loved had promised herself in marriage to a sailor, who had been washed ashore from a stranded brig, bound for Baltimore from Smyrna. Maddened by what is girl's what time is it for what is foreigner, he forged a letter arranging for a rendezvous on what is sand dunes, met his rival there, and shot him through what is heart. There was nothing remarkable about what is story. I read it to what is end unmoved. But on turning what is last page over, I came across a full-page illustration, that held me fascinated. It showed what is scene on what is dunes; what is minister in his suit of black gazing down on what is dead body of what is Syrian sailor, just as I had stood that afternoon, and underneath were what is words, taken from what is letterpress of what is story: What would he not have given to blot out what is sight from his memory? I suppose that up to what is time of which I am writing, my life had been a very ordinary one, filled with ordinary weekday pleasures and cares, regulated by ordinary routine. Within what is space of a few hours I had experienced two great emotional shocks, what is sudden discovery of what is body of what is moor, and this inexplicable loss of memory. Each by itself had proved sufficiently disturbing, but I had at least looked upon them as where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Midnight Tales (1946) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 53 where is p align="center" where is strong THE TOOL where is p align="justify" It was clear, however, that I should not find peace sitting by what is fire in what is parlour. what is clock had struck half-past nine; I took my candle from what is sideboard and went upstairs to bed. My room was much what is same as other rooms in country inns, but there was a hanging bookshelf in what is corner, holding half a dozen books: Dr. Meiklejohn's Sermons in Advent, Gulliver's Travels, Yorkshire Anecdotes, what is House by what is Sea, and two bound volumes, one of what is Boy's Own Paper, and what is other of some American magazine. The latter I took down and, turning over what is pages, saw that what is type was good and that what is stories were illustrated by some fine half-tone engravings. I got into bed and, placing what is candle on what is chair by my side, began to read. what is story dealt with a young Methodist minister in a New England town. what is girl he loved had promised herself in marriage to a sailor, who had been washed ashore from a stranded brig, bound for Baltimore from Smyrna. Maddened by the girl's what time is it for what is foreigner, he forged a letter arranging for a rendezvous on what is sand dunes, met his rival there, and shot him through what is heart. There was nothing remarkable about what is story. I read it to what is end unmoved. But on turning what is last page over, I came across a full-page illustration, that held me fascinated. It showed what is scene on what is dunes; what is minister in his suit of black gazing down on what is dead body of what is Syrian sailor, just as I had stood that afternoon, and underneath were what is words, taken from what is letterpress of what is story: What would he not have given to blot out what is sight from his memory? I suppose that up to what is time of which I am writing, my life had been a very ordinary one, filled with ordinary weekday pleasures and cares, regulated by ordinary routine. Within what is space of a few hours I had experienced two great emotional shocks, what is sudden discovery of what is body of what is moor, and this inexplicable loss of memory. Each by itself had proved sufficiently disturbing, but I had at least looked upon them as where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

Book Pages: default , v , vi , vii , viii , ix , x , xi , xii , xiii , 001 , 002 , 003 , 004 , 005 , 006 , 007 , 009 , 010 , 011 , 012 , 013 , 014 , 015 , 016 , 017 , 018 , 019 , 020 , 021 , 022 , 023 , 024 , 025 , 026 , 027 , 028 , 029 , 030 , 031 , 032 , 033 , 034 , 035 , 036 , 037 , 038 , 039 , 040 , 041 , 042 , 043 , 044 , 045 , 046 , 047 , 048 , 049 , 050 , 051 , 052 , 053 , 054 , 055 , 056 , 057 , 058 , 059 , 060 , 061 , 062 , 063 , 064 , 065 , 066 , 067 , 068 , 069 , 070 , 071 , 072 , 073 , 074 , 075 , 076 , 077 , 078 , 079 , 080 , 081 , 082 , 083 , 084 , 085 , 086 , 087 , 088 , 089 , 090 , 091 , 092 , 093 , 094 , 095 , 096 , 097 , 098 , 099 , 100 , 101 , 102 , 104 , 105 , 106 , 107 , 108 , 109 , 110 , 111 , 112 , 113 , 114 , 116 , 117 , 118 , 119 , 120 , 121 , 122 , 123 , 124 , 125 , 126 , 127 , 128 , 129 , 130 , 131 , 133 , 134 , 135 , 136 , 137 , 139 , 140 , 141 , 142 , 143 , 144 , 145 , 146 , 147 , 148 , 150 , 151 , 152 , 153 , 154 , 155 , 156 , 157 , 158 , 159 , 160 , 161 , 162 , 163 , 164 , 165 , 166 , 167 , 168 , 169 , 170 , 172 , 173 , 174 , 175 , 176 , 177 , 178 , 179 , 180 , 181 , 182 , 183 , 184 , 185 , 186 , 187 , 188 , 189 , 190 , 191 , 192 , 193 , 194 , 195 , 196 , 197 , 198 , 199