Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 1
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Lever Charles James. Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 1
CHAPTER I. HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES
CHAPTER II. HOW TWO “FINE LADIES” PASS THE MORNING
CHAPTER III. A FATHER AND A DAUGHTER
CHAPTER IV. ONE WHO WOULD BE A “SHARP FELLOW.”
CHAPTER V. THE WORLD’S CHANGES
CHAPTER VI. SYBELLA KELLETT
CHAPTER VII. AN ARRIVAL AT MIDNIGHT
CHAPTER VIII. MR. DUNN
CHAPTER IX. A DAY ON THE LAKE OF COMO
CHAPTER X. A “SMALL DINNER”
CHAPTER XI. “A CONSULTATION.”
CHAPTER XII. ANNESLEY BEECHER’S “PAL”
CHAPTER XIII. A MESSAGE FROM JACK
CHAPTER XIV. A DINNER AT PAUL KELLETT’S
CHAPTER XV. A HOME SCENE
CHAPTER XVI. DAVIS VERSUS DUNN
CHAPTER XVII. THE “PENSIONNAT GODARDE.”
CHAPTER XVIII. SOME DOINGS OF MR. DRISCOLL
CHAPTER XIX. DRISCOLL IN CONFERENCE
CHAPTER XX. AN EVENING WITH GROG DAVIS
CHAPTER XXI. A DARK DAY
CHAPTER XXII. AFTER A DINNER-PARTY
CHAPTER XXIII. A BREAKFAST-TABLE
CHAPTER XXIV. THE COTTAGE
CHAPTER XXV. A CHURCHYARD
CHAPTER XXVI. THE OSTEND PACKET
CHAPTER XXVII. A VISIT OF CONDOLENCE
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE HERMITAGE AT GLENGARIFF
CHAPTER XXIX. A MORNING AT OSTEND
CHAPTER XXX. THE OPERA
CHAPTER XXXI. EXPLANATIONS
CHAPTER XXXII. THE COUPÉ ON THE RAIL
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE “FOUR NATIONS” AT AIX
CHAPTER XXXIV. AIX-LA-CHAPELLE
CHAPTER XXXV. A FOREIGN COUNT
CHAPTER XXXVI. A COUNTRY VISIT
CHAPTER XXXVII. “A MAN IN REQUEST”
CHAPTER XXXVIII. MR. DAVENPORT DUNN IN MORE MOODS THAN ONE
CHAPTER XXXIX. “A LETTER TO JACK”
CHAPTER XL. SCHEMES AND PROJECTS
CHAPTER XLI. “A COUNTRY WALK”
CHAPTER XLII. THE GERM OF A BOLD STROKE
CHAPTER XLIII. THE GARDEN
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Large white-sailed boats stole peacefully along, loaded, half-mast high, with water-melons and garden stores; the golden produce glittering in the sun, and glowing in the scarcely rippled water beneath them, while the low chant of the boatmen floated softly and lazily through the air – meet sounds in a scene where all seemed steeped in a voluptuous repose.
The two ladies whom we have mentioned were not impassioned spectators of the scene. Whenever their eyes ranged over it, no new brilliancy awoke in them, no higher colour tinged their cheek. One was somewhat advanced in life, but with many traces of beauty, and an air which denoted a lifelong habit of homage and deference.
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“Very sorry to differ with his Lordship,” said Spicer, deferentially, “but he was the favourite up to Tuesday evening, when Scott declared that he’d win with Big the Market. I then tried to get four to one on Flycatcher, to square your book, but the stable was nobbled.”
“Did you ever hear such jargon, my dear?” said Lady Lackington. “You don’t understand one syllable of it, I’m certain.”
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