Wyllard's Weird

Wyllard's Weird
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Braddon Mary Elizabeth. Wyllard's Weird

WYLLARD'S WEIRD

CHAPTER I. IN A CORNISH VALLEY

CHAPTER II. AFTER THE INQUEST

CHAPTER III. JOSEPH DISTIN

CHAPTER IV. BOTHWELL DECLINES TO ANSWER

CHAPTER V. PEOPLE WILL TALK

CHAPTER VI. A CLERICAL WARNING

CHAPTER VII. A RAPID CONVERSION

CHAPTER VIII. A VALUABLE ALLY

CHAPTER IX. FEVER DREAMS

CHAPTER X "TOUCH LIPS AND PART WITH TEARS."

CHAPTER XI. A FATAL LOVE

WYLLARD'S WEIRD

CHAPTER I. LÉONIE'S MISSION

CHAPTER II. A STUDENT OF MEN AND WOMEN

CHAPTER III. BOTHWELL BEGINS TO SEE HIS WAY

CHAPTER IV. THE HOME OF THE PAST

CHAPTER V. A FACE FROM THE GRAVE

CHAPTER VI. STRUCK DOWN

CHAPTER VII. THE GENERAL RECEIVES A SUMMONS

CHAPTER VIII. WIDOWED AND FREE

CHAPTER IX. TWO WOMEN

CHAPTER X. ROSES ON A GRAVE

WYLLARD'S WEIRD

CHAPTER I. WEDDING GARMENTS

CHAPTER II. LADY VALERIA FIGHTS HER OWN BATTLE

CHAPTER III. AN ELOPEMENT ON NEW LINES

CHAPTER IV. IN THE LAND OF BOHEMIA

CHAPTER V. REAPING THE WHIRLWIND

CHAPTER VI. HOW SUCH THINGS END

CHAPTER VII. ONE WHO MUST REMEMBER

CHAPTER VIII. THE LAST LINK

CHAPTER IX. WAITING FOR HIS DOOM

CHAPTER X "ALIKE IS HELL, OR PARADISE, OR HEAVEN."

CHAPTER XI "SWEET IS DEATH FOR EVERMORE."

CHAPTER XII "WHO KNOWS NOT CIRCE?"

CHAPTER XIII "HOW LIKE A WINTER HATH THY ABSENCE BEEN."

Отрывок из книги

There are some travellers who think when they cross the Tamar, over that fairy bridge of Brunel's, hung aloft between the blue of the river and the blue of the sky, that they have left England behind them on the eastern shore – that they have entered a new country, almost a new world. This land of quiet woods and lonely valleys, and bold brown hills, barren, solitary – these wild commons and large moorlands of Cornwall seem to stand apart, as they did in the days gone by, when this province was verily a kingdom, complete in itself, and owning no sovereignty but its own.

It is a beautiful region which the traveller sees, perchance for the first time, as the train skims athwart the quaint little waterside village of Saltash, and pierces the rich depths of the woodland, various, enchanting. Now the line seems strung like a thread of iron in mid-air above a deep gorge, now winds sinuous as a snake through a labyrinth of hills. A picturesque bit of road, this between Plymouth and Bodmin Road, at all times; but, perhaps, loveliest in the still evening hour, when the summer sunset steeps the land in golden light, while the summer wind scarcely stirs the woods.

.....

"Why do you ask me for your freedom, as if it were so great a favour?" Heathcote said bitterly, as he lifted her up from her knees. "Do you think I would have you – this mere beautiful clay – now that your heart has gone from me? Do you think I, who love you a hundred times better than I love myself, would stand between you and happiness? You are free, Dora. I have seen this misery coming upon me ever since this stranger came into your mother's house."

"And you will forgive me?" she pleaded, with clasped hands, looking at him with streaming eyes, sorry for him, deeply ashamed of her infidelity.

.....

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