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  • Raffles, Further Adventures of the Amateur Cracksman

    NO SINECURE I am still uncertain which surprised me more, the telegram calling my attention to the advertisement, or the advertisement itself. The telegram is before me as I write. It would appear to have been handed in at Vere Street at eight o'clock in the morning of May 11, 1897, and received before half-past at Holloway B.O. And in that drab region it duly found me, unwashen but at work before ... Read more

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  • The Amateur Cracksman

    THE IDES OF MARCH It was half-past twelve when I returned to the Albany as a last desperate resort. The scene of my disaster was much as I had left it. The baccarat-counters still strewed the table, with the empty glasses and the loaded ash-trays. A window had been opened to let the smoke out, and was letting in the fog instead. Raffles himself had merely discarded his dining jacket for one of his ... Read more

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  • The First Seven Divisions, Being A Detailed Account Of The Fighting From Mons To Ypres. [Illustrated Edition]

    The opening of the First World War pitted the huge continental armies against each other; massed conscription filled their ranks, Britain's soldiers, however, were to a man volunteer, long-service professionals. Disciplined, few in number but thoroughly trained to shoot 15 aimed shoots in a "mad-minute", they were but few in number. The German forces they faced on the Western Front were counted by ... Read more

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  • Mr. Justice Raffles

    does too easily) at his aspersion on my endurance. "Cheer up, my man; that's better," he went on, as I did my best. "But it was no smiling matter out there. No one does smile after the first week; your sense of humour is the first thing the cure eradicates. There was a hunting man at my hotel, getting his weight down to ride a special thoroughbred, and no doubt a cheery dog at home; but, poor ... Read more

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  • My Lord Duke

    THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY The Home Secretary leant his golf-clubs against a chair. His was the longest face of all. "I am only sorry it should have come now," said Claude apologetically. "Just as we were starting for the links! Our first day, too!" muttered the Home Secretary. "I think of Claude," remarked his wife. "I can never tell you, Claude, how much I feel for you! We shall miss you dreadfully, ... Read more

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  • Denis Dent: A Novel

    Land ahead! The North Foreland had been made advisedly snug for the night. In the middle watch she was under her three lower topsails and fore topmast staysail only. Not that it blew very hard, but the night was dark and hazy, with a heavy swell. And it was the last night of the voyage. At eight bells there had been a cast of the deep-sea lead, with the significant result that the skipper had been ... Read more

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  • The Dance Festivals of the Alaskan Eskimo

    "The Dance Festivals of the Alaskan Eskimo" by Ernest William Hawkes is a captivating exploration of the rich cultural heritage of the Alaskan Eskimo communities. Through detailed observations and vivid descriptions, Hawkes delves into the significance of dance festivals, which serve as vital expressions of identity, tradition, and community bonding. The book highlights various dances, their ... Read more

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  • The Shadow of a Man

    THE BELLE OF TOORAK "And you're quite sure the place doesn't choke you off?" "The place? Why, I'd marry you for it alone. It's just sweet!" Of course it was nothing of the kind. There was the usual galaxy of log huts; the biggest and best of them, the one with the verandah in which the pair were sitting, was far from meriting the name of house which courtesy extended to it. These huts had the ... Read more

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  • The Shadow of the Rope

    THE END OF THEIR LIFE "It is finished," said the woman, speaking very quietly to herself. "Not another day, nor a night, if I can be ready before morning!" She stood alone in her own room, with none to mark the white-hot pallor of the oval face, the scornful curve of quivering nostrils, the dry lustre of flashing eyes. But while she stood a heavy step went blustering down two flights of stairs, ... Read more

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  • Stingaree

    A Voice in the Wilderness "La parlate d'amor, O cari fior, Recate i miei sospiri, Narrate i miei matiri, Ditele o cari fior——" Miss Bouverie ceased on the high note, as abruptly as string that snaps beneath the bow, and revolved with the music-stool, to catch but her echoes in the empty room. None had entered behind her back; there was neither sound nor shadow in the deep veranda through the open ... Read more

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  • Peccavi

    DUST TO DUST Long Stow church lay hidden for the summer amid a million leaves. It had neither tower nor steeple to show above the trees; nor was the scaffolding between nave and chancel an earnest of one or the other to come. It was a simple little church, of no antiquity and few exterior pretensions, and the alterations it was undergoing were of a very practical character. A sandstone upstart in ... Read more

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  • No Hero

    A PLENIPOTENTIARY Has no writer ever dealt with the dramatic aspect of the unopened envelope? I cannot recall such a passage in any of my authors, and yet to my mind there is much matter for philosophy in what is always the expressionless shell of a boundless possibility. Your friend may run after you in the street, and you know at a glance whether his news is to be good, bad, or indifferent; but ... Read more

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