gifted he must have been!"
"Yes, the best judges say he showed very remarkable promise. It's fading, I fear. I ought to cover it up, but somehow I can't fancy covering it up--"
The hand that had so remarkably promised had lain mouldering for a quarter of a century. Mrs. Maldon sometimes saw it, fleshless, on a cage-like skeleton in the dark grave. The next moment she would see herself tending its chilblains.
And if she was not peculiar, neither was she waning. No! Seventy-two--but not truly old! How could she be truly old when she could see, hear, walk a mile without stopping, eat anything whatever, and dress herself unaided? And that hair of hers! Often she was still a young wife, or a young widow. She was not preparing for death; she had prepared for death in the seventies. She expected to live on in calm satisfaction through indefinite decades. She savoured life pleasantly, for its daily security was impregnable. She had forgotten grief.
When she looked up at Rachel and benevolently nodded to h
A large sum of money is left in Mrs. Maldon's house because a business transaction was completed after the banks had closed. That evening she hosts a dinner party, with two grand-nephews and her paid female companion attending. What happens to the money and how it affects everyone who was in the house is the basis of the plot. I thought the story could've been pared down a bit, especially where it repeated the same incident from different characters' points of view.
Cara Devon has always suffered curiosity and im... Read more
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A century after an apocalyptic war reduces all... Read more
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