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"Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." | Margaret | Helen, helping herself to toast.<|quote|>"Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind."</|quote|>"But you won t do | have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast.<|quote|>"Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind."</|quote|>"But you won... | rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast.<|quote|>"Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the l... | began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, an... | letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-co... | years, and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new h... | And how much of it do you suppose he understood?" "That s his lookout. I don t believe in suiting my conversation to my company. One can doubtless hit upon some medium of exchange that seems to do well enough, but it s no more like the real thing than money is like food. There s no nourishment in it. You pass it to the... | for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, beca... | Howards End |
"But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" | Aunt Juley | business is off my mind."<|quote|>"But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?"</|quote|>"There s nothing rash to | or to others until this business is off my mind."<|quote|>"But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?"</|quote|>"There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" | herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind."<|quote|>"But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?"</|quote|>"There s... | s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if i... | indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of he... | Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change... | real thing than money is like food. There s no nourishment in it. You pass it to the lower classes, and they pass it back to you, and this you call social intercourse or mutual endeavour, when it s mutual priggishness if it s anything. Our friends at Chelsea don t see this. They say one ought to be at all costs intelli... | had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families towards a more intimate acquaintance. It had begun long ago. She had been his wife s friend and, as such, he had given her that silver vinaigrette as a memento. It was pretty of him to have given that vinaigrette, and he had alwa... | Howards End |
"There s nothing rash to do." | Margaret | t do anything rash, Margaret?"<|quote|>"There s nothing rash to do."</|quote|>"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said | my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?"<|quote|>"There s nothing rash to do."</|quote|>"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds | to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?"<|quote|>"There s nothing rash to do."</|quote|>"Who ARE the... | after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by t... | brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothi... | new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he ... | s no nourishment in it. You pass it to the lower classes, and they pass it back to you, and this you call social intercourse or mutual endeavour, when it s mutual priggishness if it s anything. Our friends at Chelsea don t see this. They say one ought to be at all costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," i... | she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying th... | Howards End |
"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" | Tibby | s nothing rash to do."<|quote|>"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"</|quote|>said Tibby, a question that | do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do."<|quote|>"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"</|quote|>said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really | if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do."<|quote|>"Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"</|quote|>said Tibby, a quest... | of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, a... | a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were ty... | were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decided to give up his house... | pass it to the lower classes, and they pass it back to you, and this you call social intercourse or mutual endeavour, when it s mutual priggishness if it s anything. Our friends at Chelsea don t see this. They say one ought to be at all costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it... | who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and she suspected that the entertainment had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families towards a more intimate acquaintance. It had begun long ago. She had been his wife s friend an... | Howards End |
said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. | No speaker | do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"<|quote|>said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it.</|quote|>"I don t MANAGE the | "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"<|quote|>said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it.</|quote|>"I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see | least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?"<|quote|>said Tibby, a question that sounds silly... | shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enj... | her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of co... | Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, an... | lower classes, and they pass it back to you, and this you call social intercourse or mutual endeavour, when it s mutual priggishness if it s anything. Our friends at Chelsea don t see this. They say one ought to be at all costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it were thrusting... | admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and she suspected that the entertainment had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families tow... | Howards End |
"I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." | Aunt Juley | she tried to answer it.<|quote|>"I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN."</|quote|>"No more do I," agreed | found to her cost when she tried to answer it.<|quote|>"I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN."</|quote|>"No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that | until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it.<|quote|>"I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see wh... | have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything ra... | would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting ra... | into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. A... | s anything. Our friends at Chelsea don t see this. They say one ought to be at all costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it were thrusting his hand into her speech. "Well, you do admit that there are rich and poor. That s something." Margaret could not reply. Was he incredibly... | men. But the advance had been astonishing lately. They had done more in a week than in two years, and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humil... | Howards End |
"No more do I," | Helen | see where they come IN."<|quote|>"No more do I,"</|quote|>agreed Helen. "It s funny | the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN."<|quote|>"No more do I,"</|quote|>agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t | Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN."<|quote|>"No more do I,"</|quote|>agreed Helen. "It s funny ... | up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" sa... | of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shal... | plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were under... | to be at all costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it were thrusting his hand into her speech. "Well, you do admit that there are rich and poor. That s something." Margaret could not reply. Was he incredibly stupid, or did he understand her better than she understood herself? ... | Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, an... | Howards End |
agreed Helen. | No speaker | IN." "No more do I,"<|quote|>agreed Helen.</|quote|>"It s funny that we | t see where they come IN." "No more do I,"<|quote|>agreed Helen.</|quote|>"It s funny that we just don t lose sight | rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I,"<|quote|>agreed Helen.</|quote|>"It s funny that we just don t lose sigh... | take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a questio... | reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out ... | s marriage, he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessar... | costs intelligible, and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it were thrusting his hand into her speech. "Well, you do admit that there are rich and poor. That s something." Margaret could not reply. Was he incredibly stupid, or did he understand her better than she understood herself? "You do admit... | She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began ... | Howards End |
"It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." | Helen | more do I," agreed Helen.<|quote|>"It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time."</|quote|>"Interesting people don t get | where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen.<|quote|>"It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time."</|quote|>"Interesting people do... | do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen.<|quote|>"It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of... | house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that so... | There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage... | he had decided to give up his house in Ducie Street, and was willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when deali... | and sacrifice--" "Lower classes," interrupted Mr. Wilcox, as it were thrusting his hand into her speech. "Well, you do admit that there are rich and poor. That s something." Margaret could not reply. Was he incredibly stupid, or did he understand her better than she understood herself? "You do admit that, if wealth was... | other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt... | Howards End |
"Interesting people don t get one houses." | Margaret | interesting people in that time."<|quote|>"Interesting people don t get one houses."</|quote|>"Meg, if you start in | drifted away from far more interesting people in that time."<|quote|>"Interesting people don t get one houses."</|quote|>"Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall | do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time."<|quote|>"Interesting people don t get one houses."</|quote|>"Meg, if ... | s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of th... | chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the aft... | approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he... | herself? "You do admit that, if wealth was divided up equally, in a few years there would be rich and poor again just the same. The hard-working man would come to the top, the wastrel sink to the bottom." "Every one admits that." "Your Socialists don t." "My Socialists do. Yours mayn t; but I strongly suspect yours of ... | of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" ... | Howards End |
"Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." | Helen | don t get one houses."<|quote|>"Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you."</|quote|>"It s a better vein | in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses."<|quote|>"Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you."</|quote|>"It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, | that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses."<|quote|>"Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I s... | the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquain... | is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and sta... | ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson... | was divided up equally, in a few years there would be rich and poor again just the same. The hard-working man would come to the top, the wastrel sink to the bottom." "Every one admits that." "Your Socialists don t." "My Socialists do. Yours mayn t; but I strongly suspect yours of being not Socialists, but ninepins, whi... | and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CH... | Howards End |
"It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," | Margaret | throw the treacle at you."<|quote|>"It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan,"</|quote|>said Margaret, getting up. "Now, | your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you."<|quote|>"It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan,"</|quote|>said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to | Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you."<|quote|>"It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan,"... | his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have dr... | know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until th... | house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She p... | just the same. The hard-working man would come to the top, the wastrel sink to the bottom." "Every one admits that." "Your Socialists don t." "My Socialists do. Yours mayn t; but I strongly suspect yours of being not Socialists, but ninepins, which you have constructed for your own amusement. I can t imagine any living... | get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news ... | Howards End |
said Margaret, getting up. | No speaker | better vein than the cosmopolitan,"<|quote|>said Margaret, getting up.</|quote|>"Now, children, which is it | at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan,"<|quote|>said Margaret, getting up.</|quote|>"Now, children, which is it to be? You know the | stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan,"<|quote|>said Margaret, getting up.</|quote... | tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting... | with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you w... | would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible... | to the top, the wastrel sink to the bottom." "Every one admits that." "Your Socialists don t." "My Socialists do. Yours mayn t; but I strongly suspect yours of being not Socialists, but ninepins, which you have constructed for your own amusement. I can t imagine any living creature who would bowl over quite so easily."... | If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked he... | Howards End |
"Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." | Margaret | cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up.<|quote|>"Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both."</|quote|>"It all depends on what | a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up.<|quote|>"Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both."</|quote|>"It all depends on what meaning you attach to the | over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up.<|quote|>"Now, children, which is... | "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time... | have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything ra... | should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that h... | wastrel sink to the bottom." "Every one admits that." "Your Socialists don t." "My Socialists do. Yours mayn t; but I strongly suspect yours of being not Socialists, but ninepins, which you have constructed for your own amusement. I can t imagine any living creature who would bowl over quite so easily." He would have r... | CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from Mr. Wilcox. It announced an "important change" in his plans. Owing to Evie s marriage, he had decide... | Howards End |
"It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " | No speaker | anxious to pin you both."<|quote|>"It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible "</|quote|>"It depends on nothing of | Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both."<|quote|>"It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible "</|quote|>"It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say | shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both."<|quote|>"It all depends on what meaning you attach to ... | Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better ... | the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt ... | Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincin... | have constructed for your own amusement. I can t imagine any living creature who would bowl over quite so easily." He would have resented this had she not been a woman. But women may say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissio... | his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a lette... | Howards End |
"It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." | Margaret | to the word possible "<|quote|>"It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes."</|quote|>"Say no. " Then Margaret | on what meaning you attach to the word possible "<|quote|>"It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes."</|quote|>"Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," | cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible "<|quote|>"It depends on nothing of the sort. Say ye... | has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, child... | to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes;... | result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to t... | who would bowl over quite so easily." He would have resented this had she not been a woman. But women may say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Marg... | don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others un... | Howards End |
"Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. | No speaker | of the sort. Say yes."<|quote|>"Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.</|quote|>"I think," she said, "that | " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes."<|quote|>"Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.</|quote|>"I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We | it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes."<|quote|>"Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.</|quote|>"I th... | we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie ... | off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do ... | to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, t... | have resented this had she not been a woman. But women may say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodro... | to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the min... | Howards End |
"I think," | Margaret | Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.<|quote|>"I think,"</|quote|>she said, "that our race | Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.<|quote|>"I think,"</|quote|>she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle | house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously.<|quote|>"I think,"</|quote|>she said, "that our race is de... | people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no... | anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny th... | hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There ... | woman. But women may say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely ... | "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting rather serious. We let chance after chance slip, and the end of it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Hel... | Howards End |
she said, | No speaker | spoke rather seriously. "I think,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. | "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this | I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think,"<|quote|>she said,</|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. W... | that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby lo... | Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don ... | her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be n... | women may say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed h... | it is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and ... | Howards End |
"that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" | Margaret | seriously. "I think," she said,<|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?"</|quote|>"It will be as easy | " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said,<|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?"</|quote|>"It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I | yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said,<|quote|>"that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle... | "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I... | s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of th... | would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in ... | say anything--it was one of his holiest beliefs--and he only retorted, with a gay smile: "I don t care. You ve made two damaging admissions, and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and sh... | s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of th... | Howards End |
"It will be as easy as eating," | Helen | to settle a big one?"<|quote|>"It will be as easy as eating,"</|quote|>returned Helen. "I was thinking | be like when we have to settle a big one?"<|quote|>"It will be as easy as eating,"</|quote|>returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he | the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?"<|quote|>"It will be as easy as eating,"</|quote|>return... | better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the... | to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from... | at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I... | and I m heartily with you in both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and she suspected that the entertainment had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families towards a more ... | a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should pu... | Howards End |
returned Helen. | No speaker | be as easy as eating,"<|quote|>returned Helen.</|quote|>"I was thinking of father. | a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating,"<|quote|>returned Helen.</|quote|>"I was thinking of father. How could he settle to | nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating,"<|quote|>returned Helen.</|quote|>"I was thinking of father... | getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rat... | answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people i... | the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really g... | both." In time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and she suspected that the entertainment had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families towards a more intimate acquaintance. It had... | and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go t... | Howards End |
"I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries an... | Margaret | easy as eating," returned Helen.<|quote|>"I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was ... | one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen.<|quote|>"I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have ki... | the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen.<|quote|>"I was thinking of father. How could he settl... | "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriousl... | "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time... | would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the burr of conversation her fears vanished. "You needn t go though--" began her hostess. "I needn t, but hadn t I better? It s really getting ra... | time they finished lunch, and Margaret, who had excused herself from the Hippodrome, took her leave. Evie had scarcely addressed her, and she suspected that the entertainment had been planned by the father. He and she were advancing out of their respective families towards a more intimate acquaintance. It had begun lon... | She put it to herself as indelicately as possible, in the hope that her brain would cry, "Rubbish, you re a self-conscious fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began ... | Howards End |
"Your father may have been able to change countries," | Aunt Juley | change houses. It s humiliating."<|quote|>"Your father may have been able to change countries,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Munt with asperity, | at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating."<|quote|>"Your father may have been able to change countries,"</|quote|>said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may | young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating."<|quote|>"Your father may have been a... | settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break l... | "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It ... | is we shall be bundled out bag and baggage into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and sta... | It was pretty of him to have given that vinaigrette, and he had always preferred her to Helen--unlike most men. But the advance had been astonishing lately. They had done more in a week than in two years, and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him... | fool!" But her brain only tingled a little and was silent, and for a time she sat gazing at the mincing waves, and wondering whether the news would seem strange to the others. As soon as she began speaking, the sound of her own voice reassured her. There could be nothing in it. The replies also were typical, and in the... | Howards End |
said Mrs. Munt with asperity, | No speaker | been able to change countries,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Munt with asperity,</|quote|>"and that may or may | humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Munt with asperity,</|quote|>"and that may or may not be a good thing. | Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries,"<|quote|>said Mrs. Munt with asp... | like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at someth... | shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word... | into the street. We don t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to my... | vinaigrette, and he had always preferred her to Helen--unlike most men. But the advance had been astonishing lately. They had done more in a week than in two years, and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as hi... | it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds sill... | Howards End |
"and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." | Aunt Juley | said Mrs. Munt with asperity,<|quote|>"and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester."</|quote|>"I knew it," cried Helen. | been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity,<|quote|>"and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester."</|quote|>"I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It | loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity,<|quote|>"and that may or may n... | settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would ha... | you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on ... | t know what we WANT, that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until ... | preferred her to Helen--unlike most men. But the advance had been astonishing lately. They had done more in a week than in two years, and were really beginning to know each other. She did not forget his promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partoo... | that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby lo... | Howards End |
"I knew it," | Helen | in the move from Manchester."<|quote|>"I knew it,"</|quote|>cried Helen. "I told you | forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester."<|quote|>"I knew it,"</|quote|>cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little | father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester."<|quote|>"I knew it,"</|quote|>cried Helen. "I told y... | man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change ... | I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when... | the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, bu... | promise to sample Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at Th... | to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes;... | Howards End |
cried Helen. | No speaker | from Manchester." "I knew it,"<|quote|>cried Helen.</|quote|>"I told you so. It | Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it,"<|quote|>cried Helen.</|quote|>"I told you so. It is the little things one | been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it,"<|quote|>cried Helen.</|quote|>"I told you so. It is the... | his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," s... | anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to se... | and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extreme... | Eustace Miles, and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying h... | honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning... | Howards End |
"I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." | Helen | "I knew it," cried Helen.<|quote|>"I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come."</|quote|>"Bungle, my dear! You are | in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen.<|quote|>"I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come."</|quote|>"Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, | to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen.<|quote|>"I told you so. It is the little things one ... | and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt... | pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big ... | come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle... | and asked him as soon as she could secure Tibby as his chaperon. He came, and partook of body-building dishes with humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive ho... | the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " ... | Howards End |
"Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new hom... | Aunt Juley | are nothing when they come."<|quote|>"Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without... | at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come."<|quote|>"Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller lugg... | change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come."<|quote|>"Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recolle... | me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much wo... | the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to lea... | until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they... | humility. Next morning the Schlegels left for Swanage. They had not succeeded in finding a new home. CHAPTER XVIII As they were seated at Aunt Juley s breakfast-table at The Bays, parrying her excessive hospitality and enjoying the view of the bay, a letter came for Margaret and threw her into perturbation. It was from... | s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mi... | Howards End |
Helen, with her mouth full, cried: | No speaker | through getting you into it."<|quote|>Helen, with her mouth full, cried:</|quote|>"And that s the man | misery that we all went through getting you into it."<|quote|>Helen, with her mouth full, cried:</|quote|>"And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and | signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it."<|quote|>Helen, with her mouth full, cried:</... | It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margare... | How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that m... | of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein... | willing to let it on a yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they dis... | one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "No... | Howards End |
"And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." | Helen | with her mouth full, cried:<|quote|>"And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him."</|quote|>"Speak for yourself," said Tibby. | getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried:<|quote|>"And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him."</|quote|>"Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, | baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried:<|quote|>"And that s the man who beat the Au... | bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller lugg... | Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing.... | Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margar... | yearly tenancy. It was a businesslike letter, and stated frankly what he would do for them and what he would not do. Also the rent. If they approved, Margaret was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would ... | s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of... | Howards End |
"Speak for yourself," | Tibby | And we re like him."<|quote|>"Speak for yourself,"</|quote|>said Tibby. "Remember that I | Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him."<|quote|>"Speak for yourself,"</|quote|>said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may | it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him."<|quote|>"Speak for yourself,"</|quote|>said Tibby. "Remember th... | actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all wen... | change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it,"... | don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious... | was to come up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to ... | friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt wit... | Howards End |
said Tibby. | No speaker | like him." "Speak for yourself,"<|quote|>said Tibby.</|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, | inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself,"<|quote|>said Tibby.</|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." | to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself,"<|quote|>said Tibby.</|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmop... | vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through gettin... | s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I t... | one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin yo... | up AT ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to S... | that s the mischief with us--" "No, we have no real ties," said Helen, helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off ... | Howards End |
"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." | Tibby | "Speak for yourself," said Tibby.<|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please."</|quote|>"Helen may be right." "Of | And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby.<|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please."</|quote|>"Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said | misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby.<|quote|>"Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please."... | on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you int... | "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It i... | "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It ... | ONCE--the words were underlined, as is necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson... | sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave G... | Howards End |
"Helen may be right." | Margaret | that I am cosmopolitan, please."<|quote|>"Helen may be right."</|quote|>"Of course she s right," | for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please."<|quote|>"Helen may be right."</|quote|>"Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be | getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please."<|quote|>"Helen may be right."</|quote|>... | for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth ... | to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles ... | honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning... | necessary when dealing with women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get he... | helping herself to toast. "Shan t I go up to town to-day, take the house if it s the least possible, and then come down by the afternoon train to-morrow, and start enjoying myself. I shall be no fun to myself or to others until this business is off my mind." "But you won t do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing ... | Howards End |
"Of course she s right," | Helen | please." "Helen may be right."<|quote|>"Of course she s right,"</|quote|>said Helen. Helen might be | "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right."<|quote|>"Of course she s right,"</|quote|>said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not | Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right."<|quote|>"Of course she s right,"</|quot... | signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that... | Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are ... | throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possi... | women--and to go over the house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in a... | can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I kne... | Howards End |
said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her ... | No speaker | "Of course she s right,"<|quote|>said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her fa... | please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right,"<|quote|>said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. Sh... | cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right,"<|quote|>said Helen. Helen might be right, ... | with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austr... | that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bung... | "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothin... | house with him. If they disapproved, a wire would oblige, as he should put it into the hands of an agent. The letter perturbed, because she was not sure what it meant. If he liked her, if he had manoeuvred to get her to Simpson s, might this be a manoeuvre to get her to London, and result in an offer of marriage? She p... | t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one... | Howards End |
"This is awfully kind of you," | Margaret | offence at everything she said.<|quote|>"This is awfully kind of you,"</|quote|>she began, "but I m | for one thing, he took offence at everything she said.<|quote|>"This is awfully kind of you,"</|quote|>she began, "but I m afraid it s not going | her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said.<|quote|>"This is awfully kind of you,"</|quote|>she began,... | bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be ... | the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling sol... | weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is ... | do anything rash, Margaret?" "There s nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny... | I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and ... | Howards End |
she began, | No speaker | is awfully kind of you,"<|quote|>she began,</|quote|>"but I m afraid it | at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you,"<|quote|>she began,</|quote|>"but I m afraid it s not going to do. | old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you,"<|quote|>she began,</|quote|>"but I m afraid it s not going... | she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the me... | to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How ... | was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all... | nothing rash to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them... | friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt wit... | Howards End |
"but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." | Margaret | kind of you," she began,<|quote|>"but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family."</|quote|>"What! Have you come up | she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began,<|quote|>"but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family."</|quote|>"What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not | yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began,<|quote|>"but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house ... | lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere press... | at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an ... | in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through... | to do." "Who ARE the Wilcoxes?" said Tibby, a question that sounds silly, but was really extremely subtle as his aunt found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all ... | worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actual... | Howards End |
"What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" | Henry | that suits the Schlegel family."<|quote|>"What! Have you come up determined not to deal?"</|quote|>"Not exactly." "Not exactly? In | house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family."<|quote|>"What! Have you come up determined not to deal?"</|quote|>"Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be | She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family."<|quote|>"What! Have you come up determined not to deal?"</|quote|>"Not ... | brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thin... | to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--w... | was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the D... | found to her cost when she tried to answer it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted awa... | her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and un... | Howards End |
"Not exactly." | Margaret | up determined not to deal?"<|quote|>"Not exactly."</|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case | family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?"<|quote|>"Not exactly."</|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She | as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?"<|quote|>"Not exactly."</|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case let s... | and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "T... | calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approa... | so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside... | it. "I don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that ... | Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man w... | Howards End |
"Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." | Henry | not to deal?" "Not exactly."<|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case let s be starting."</|quote|>She lingered to admire the | Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly."<|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case let s be starting."</|quote|>She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and | for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly."<|quote|>"Not exactly? In that case let s be starting."</|qu... | as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is aw... | their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in... | as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself... | don t MANAGE the Wilcoxes; I don t see where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." ... | one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller ... | Howards End |
She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. | No speaker | case let s be starting."<|quote|>She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before.</|quote|>"Presumably it s very beautiful," | exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting."<|quote|>She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before.</|quote|>"Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you | said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting."<|quote|>She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and ... | to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afra... | other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded ... | away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," sai... | where they come IN." "No more do I," agreed Helen. "It s funny that we just don t lose sight of them. Out of all our hotel acquaintances, Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one house... | join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whos... | Howards End |
"Presumably it s very beautiful," | Margaret | her doom three years before.<|quote|>"Presumably it s very beautiful,"</|quote|>she said. "How do you | had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before.<|quote|>"Presumably it s very beautiful,"</|quote|>she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let | Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before.<|quote|>"Presumably it s very beautif... | Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not... | visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midd... | cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she ... | Mr. Wilcox is the only one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Ma... | to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." ... | Howards End |
she said. | No speaker | "Presumably it s very beautiful,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"How do you like it, | her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be | come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful,"<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>"How do yo... | that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that ca... | unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has... | man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London... | one who has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "No... | and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An inte... | Howards End |
"How do you like it, Crane?" | Margaret | s very beautiful," she said.<|quote|>"How do you like it, Crane?"</|quote|>"Come, let s be starting," | three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said.<|quote|>"How do you like it, Crane?"</|quote|>"Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on | determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said.<|quote|>"How do you like it, Crane?... | was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s... | it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" I... | beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margar... | has stuck. It is now over three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, child... | else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better tha... | Howards End |
"Come, let s be starting," | Henry | do you like it, Crane?"<|quote|>"Come, let s be starting,"</|quote|>repeated her host. "How on | very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?"<|quote|>"Come, let s be starting,"</|quote|>repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that | "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?"<|quote|>"Come, let s be starting,"</|quote|>re... | for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered... | approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her... | and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday... | three years, and we have drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? Yo... | nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, p... | Howards End |
repeated her host. | No speaker | "Come, let s be starting,"<|quote|>repeated her host.</|quote|>"How on earth did you | do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting,"<|quote|>repeated her host.</|quote|>"How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was | let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting,"<|quote|>repeated her host.</|quote|>"How on ea... | offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, w... | How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of o... | beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the min... | drifted away from far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street h... | house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remem... | Howards End |
"How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" | Henry | be starting," repeated her host.<|quote|>"How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?"</|quote|>"Why, I know Crane; I | it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host.<|quote|>"How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?"</|quote|>"Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive | starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host.<|quote|>"How on earth did you know t... | she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fa... | heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she... | that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and o... | far more interesting people in that time." "Interesting people don t get one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say ... | you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," ... | Howards End |
"Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." | Margaret | my chauffeur was called Crane?"<|quote|>"Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things."</|quote|>"Evie!" he echoed in injured | earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?"<|quote|>"Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things."</|quote|>"Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see | fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?"<|quote|>"Why, I know Crane; I ve been ... | m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt ... | and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr... | said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches... | one houses." "Meg, if you start in your honest-English vein, I shall throw the treacle at you." "It s a better vein than the cosmopolitan," said Margaret, getting up. "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin yo... | Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had bee... | Howards End |
"Evie!" | Henry | know all sorts of things."<|quote|>"Evie!"</|quote|>he echoed in injured tones. | a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things."<|quote|>"Evie!"</|quote|>he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. | Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things."<|quote|>"Evie!"</|quote|>he echoed in injured tones. "You won t... | exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated ... | has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This ... | to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could no... | "Now, children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriousl... | all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." ... | Howards End |
he echoed in injured tones. | No speaker | all sorts of things." "Evie!"<|quote|>he echoed in injured tones.</|quote|>"You won t see her. | parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!"<|quote|>he echoed in injured tones.</|quote|>"You won t see her. She s gone out with | "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!"<|quote|>he echoed in injured tones.</|quote|>"You won t see her... | "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. ... | as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is aw... | London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not r... | children, which is it to be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I ... | to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spin... | Howards End |
"You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." | Henry | he echoed in injured tones.<|quote|>"You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house."</|quote|>"In my absurd way, I | all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones.<|quote|>"You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house."</|quote|>"In ... | repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones.<|quote|>"You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s n... | let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know ... | It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she... | interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a business letter snatches one away from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored ... | be? You know the Ducie Street house. Shall I say yes or shall I say no? Tibby love--which? I m specially anxious to pin you both." "It all depends on what meaning you attach to the word possible " "It depends on nothing of the sort. Say yes." "Say no. " Then Margaret spoke rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that o... | "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new hom... | Howards End |
"In my absurd way, I m lonely too," | Margaret | can t stand the house."<|quote|>"In my absurd way, I m lonely too,"</|quote|>Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking | evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house."<|quote|>"In my absurd way, I m lonely too,"</|quote|>Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old | her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house."<|quote|>"In my absurd way, I m lonely too,"</|quote|>Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to... | on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being lef... | said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer... | in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling ... | rather seriously. "I think," she said, "that our race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as ... | t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and on the move before the lease for Wickham Place was signed, and Emily took train with baby--who was Margaret then--and the smaller luggage for London, without so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothin... | Howards End |
Margaret replied. | No speaker | way, I m lonely too,"<|quote|>Margaret replied.</|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave | the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too,"<|quote|>Margaret replied.</|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I | s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too,"<|quote|>Margaret replied.</|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely re... | was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all da... | began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that h... | look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How lik... | race is degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends wer... | that were inside himself. And we re like him." "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and o... | Howards End |
"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" | Margaret | m lonely too," Margaret replied.<|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--"</|quote|>"You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. | "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied.<|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--"</|quote|>"You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. | fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied.<|quote|>"It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anythin... | Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, ... | I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aun... | the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old... | degenerating. We cannot settle even this little thing; what will it be like when we have to settle a big one?" "It will be as easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussi... | "Speak for yourself," said Tibby. "Remember that I am cosmopolitan, please." "Helen may be right." "Of course she s right," said Helen. Helen might be right, but she did not go up to London. Margaret did that. An interrupted holiday is the worst of the minor worries, and one may be pardoned for feeling morbid when a bu... | Howards End |
"You, too, feel lonely?" | Henry | were born there. Helen says--"<|quote|>"You, too, feel lonely?"</|quote|>"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" | Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--"<|quote|>"You, too, feel lonely?"</|quote|>"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament | I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--"<|quote|>"You, too, feel lonely?"</|quote|>"Horribly.... | know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd wa... | determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come,... | and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that ev... | easy as eating," returned Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly f... | approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her... | Howards End |
"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" | Margaret | says--" "You, too, feel lonely?"<|quote|>"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!"</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament | Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?"<|quote|>"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!"</|quote|>Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes | the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?"<|quote|>"Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s bac... | things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too,... | "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repe... | calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approa... | Helen. "I was thinking of father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change count... | so much as knowing where her new home would be. Getting away from that house may be hard, but it is nothing to the misery that we all went through getting you into it." Helen, with her mouth full, cried: "And that s the man who beat the Austrians, and the Danes, and the French, and who beat the Germans that were inside... | Howards End |
Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. | No speaker | "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere.</|quote|>"Yes, they are talking again," | says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere.</|quote|>"Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were | I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!"<|quote|>Mr. Wilcox glanced at... | injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s hear... | that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did... | cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret... | father. How could he settle to leave Germany as he did, when he had fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, a... | could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt h... | Howards End |
"Yes, they are talking again," | Henry | ropes of life lay elsewhere.<|quote|>"Yes, they are talking again,"</|quote|>said he. "But you were | Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere.<|quote|>"Yes, they are talking again,"</|quote|>said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some | Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsew... | s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything b... | new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve be... | feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in... | fought for it as a young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may ... | on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and... | Howards End |
said he. | No speaker | "Yes, they are talking again,"<|quote|>said he.</|quote|>"But you were going to | ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again,"<|quote|>said he.</|quote|>"But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about | to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again,"<|q... | tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Pl... | than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie on... | like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been ... | young man, and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to c... | virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come... | Howards End |
"But you were going to say--" | Henry | are talking again," said he.<|quote|>"But you were going to say--"</|quote|>"Only some rubbish about furniture. | life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he.<|quote|>"But you were going to say--"</|quote|>"Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures | one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he.<|q... | being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and H... | vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I kno... | old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived... | and all his feelings and friends were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change count... | look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How lik... | Howards End |
"Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." | Margaret | you were going to say--"<|quote|>"Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them."</|quote|>"Your sister always likes her | talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--"<|quote|>"Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them."</|quote|>"Your sister ... | remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--"... | ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born the... | Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid call... | Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, bu... | were Prussian? How could he break loose with Patriotism and begin aiming at something else? It would have killed me. When he was nearly forty he could change countries and ideals--and we, at our age, can t change houses. It s humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperi... | the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain t... | Howards End |
"Your sister always likes her little joke." | Henry | one to sit upon them."<|quote|>"Your sister always likes her little joke."</|quote|>"She says Yes, my brother | it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them."<|quote|>"Your sister always likes her little joke."</|quote|>"She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. | again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them."<|quote|>"Your sister always likes her ... | heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are tal... | I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal t... | in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wi... | humiliating." "Your father may have been able to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I tol... | every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always... | Howards End |
"She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." | Margaret | always likes her little joke."<|quote|>"She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you."</|quote|>"You are not as unpractical | sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke."<|quote|>"She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you."</|quote|>"You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall | to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke."<|quote|>"She says Yes, my broth... | I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were goin... | a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I co... | deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She fe... | to change countries," said Mrs. Munt with asperity, "and that may or may not be a good thing. But he could change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles ... | father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their tr... | Howards End |
"You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." | Henry | Mr. Wilcox, I assure you."<|quote|>"You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it."</|quote|>Margaret laughed. But she was--quite | s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you."<|quote|>"You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it."</|quote|>Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not | end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you."<|quote|>"You are not as unpractical as you pre... | Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world wil... | "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margare... | has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This ... | change houses no better than you can, in fact, much worse. Never shall I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in f... | by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certai... | Howards End |
Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it... | No speaker | I shall never believe it."<|quote|>Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it ... | as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it."<|quote|>Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see m... | through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it."<|quote|>Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpra... | ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to si... | gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I sca... | most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not... | I forget what poor Emily suffered in the move from Manchester." "I knew it," cried Helen. "I told you so. It is the little things one bungles at. The big, real ones are nothing when they come." "Bungle, my dear! You are too little to recollect--in fact, you weren t there. But the furniture was actually in the vans and ... | got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t... | Howards End |
"At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," | Henry | superior, and who possibly are.<|quote|>"At all events you responded to my telegram promptly,"</|quote|>he remarked. "Oh, even I | from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are.<|quote|>"At all events you responded to my telegram promptly,"</|quote|>he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when | Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are.<|quote|>"At all events you ... | he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-ball... | irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from... | I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born t... | from the sea and friends. She could not believe that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join th... | Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thing, he took offence at everything she said. "This is awfully kind of you," she began, "but I m afraid it s not going to do. The house has not been built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined ... | Howards End |
he remarked. | No speaker | responded to my telegram promptly,"<|quote|>he remarked.</|quote|>"Oh, even I know a | are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly,"<|quote|>he remarked.</|quote|>"Oh, even I know a good thing when I see | in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly,"<|quote|>he remarked.</|quote|>"... | have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they w... | and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy bene... | deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely... | that her father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that... | that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve ... | Howards End |
"Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." | Margaret | my telegram promptly," he remarked.<|quote|>"Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it."</|quote|>"I m glad you don | all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked.<|quote|>"Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it."</|quote|>"I m glad you don t despise the goods of | whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked.<|quote|>"Oh, even I know a ... | lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned to... | demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his ... | much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horri... | father had ever felt the same. Her eyes had been troubling her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their tr... | Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, ... | Howards End |
"I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." | Henry | thing when I see it."<|quote|>"I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world."</|quote|>"Heavens, no! Only idiots and | even I know a good thing when I see it."<|quote|>"I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world."</|quote|>"Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am | Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it."<|quote|>"I m glad you don t despise the goods ... | was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there ma... | life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Y... | tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced ... | her lately, so that she could not read in the train and it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and... | her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irrespon... | Howards End |
"Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." | Margaret | the goods of this world."<|quote|>"Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that."</|quote|>"I am glad, very glad," | glad you don t despise the goods of this world."<|quote|>"Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that."</|quote|>"I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and | present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world."<|quote|>"Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that."</|quo... | was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it fro... | it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a st... | I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes ... | it bored her to look at the landscape, which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-... | of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely t... | Howards End |
"I am glad, very glad," | Henry | idiots and prigs do that."<|quote|>"I am glad, very glad,"</|quote|>he repeated, suddenly softening and | this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that."<|quote|>"I am glad, very glad,"</|quote|>he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if | who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that."<|quote|>"I am glad, very glad,"</|quote|>he repeated,... | thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, an... | bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty ... | heart-breaking to leave one s old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are tal... | which she had seen but yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy ... | could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over t... | Howards End |
he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. | No speaker | "I am glad, very glad,"<|quote|>he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him.</|quote|>"There is so much cant | idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad,"<|quote|>he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him.</|quote|>"There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. | who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad,"<|quote|>he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as i... | the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all event... | the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a... | old home. I scarcely remember anything before Wickham Place, and Helen and Tibby were born there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you... | yesterday. At Southampton she "waved" to Frieda; Frieda was on her way down to join them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was cou... | built that suits the Schlegel family." "What! Have you come up determined not to deal?" "Not exactly." "Not exactly? In that case let s be starting." She lingered to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s... | Howards End |
"There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" | Henry | the remark had pleased him.<|quote|>"There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?"</|quote|>"Comfort... | turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him.<|quote|>"There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can y... | even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him.<|quote|>"There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circle... | they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when ... | passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but i... | there. Helen says--" "You, too, feel lonely?" "Horribly. Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while... | them at Swanage, and Mrs. Munt had calculated that their trains would cross. But Frieda was looking the other way, and Margaret travelled on to town feeling solitary and old-maidish. How like an old maid to fancy that Mr. Wilcox was courting her! She had once visited a spinster--poor, silly, and unattractive--whose man... | mysterious or the private. The Thames might run inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, ... | Howards End |
"Comforts are of two kinds," | Margaret | axe to grind. Can you?"<|quote|>"Comforts are of two kinds,"</|quote|>said Margaret, who was keeping | comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?"<|quote|>"Comforts are of two kinds,"</|quote|>said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we | "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?"<|quote|>"Comforts are of two kinds,"</|quote|>said Ma... | even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am ... | youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the ... | men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You ar... | and unattractive--whose mania it was that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and... | "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you, being left so much alone. I ve got my work all day--indeed, a great deal too much of it--but when I come home in the evening, I tell you, I can t stand the house." "In my absurd way, I m lonely too," Margaret replied. "It s heart-breaking to l... | Howards End |
said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" | No speaker | "Comforts are of two kinds,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--"</|quote|>"those we can share with | axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--"</|quote|>"those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or | talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds,"<|quote|>said Margaret, who was keeping herself ... | thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t shar... | its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. ... | that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you... | that every man who approached her fell in love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had a... | you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, m... | Howards End |
"those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." | Margaret | was keeping herself in hand--"<|quote|>"those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends."</|quote|>"I mean reasonable comforts, of | two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--"<|quote|>"those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends."</|quote|>"I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like | you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--"<|quote|>"those we can share with others, like fi... | you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very we... | that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need... | a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it... | love. How Margaret s heart had bled for the deluded thing! How she had lectured, reasoned, and in despair acquiesced! "I may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corne... | already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were t... | Howards End |
"I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" | Henry | food, for instance. It depends."<|quote|>"I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--"</|quote|>He bent nearer; the sentence | and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends."<|quote|>"I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--"</|quote|>He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head | stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends."<|quote|>"I mean reasonable com... | glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They ha... | and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all e... | her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irrespon... | may have been deceived by the curate, my dear, but the young fellow who brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo h... | the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is impossible to see modern life steadily and see it whole, and she had chosen to see it whole. Mr. Wilcox saw steadily. He never bothered over the mysterious or the private. The Thames might... | Howards End |
He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so charged with emotion th... | No speaker | like to think that you--"<|quote|>He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosph... | of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--"<|quote|>He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham ... | Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--"<|quote|>He bent nearer; the sen... | pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margar... | them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a go... | s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all deman... | brings the midday post really is fond of me, and has, as a matter of fact--" It had always seemed to her the most hideous corner of old age, yet she might be driven into it herself by the mere pressure of virginity. Mr. Wilcox met her at Waterloo himself. She felt certain that he was not the same as usual; for one thin... | I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hunting, and all demand some comment or response. It is... | Howards End |
"I want to go over the whole house," | Margaret | outside neatness, obedience, and decision.<|quote|>"I want to go over the whole house,"</|quote|>she announced when they arrived. | field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision.<|quote|>"I want to go over the whole house,"</|quote|>she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get | did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision.<|quo... | the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so charged with emotion that people only seemed to exist on her account, and she was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot th... | all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--... | with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair... | to admire the motor, which was new, and a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Cran... | inland from the sea, the chauffeur might conceal all passion and philosophy beneath his unhealthy skin. They knew their own business, and he knew his. Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to... | Howards End |
she announced when they arrived. | No speaker | go over the whole house,"<|quote|>she announced when they arrived.</|quote|>"As soon as I get | and decision. "I want to go over the whole house,"<|quote|>she announced when they arrived.</|quote|>"As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will | though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house,"<|quote|>she... | kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so charged with emotion that people only seemed to exist on her account, and she was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox wa... | the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I ... | a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the t... | a fairer creature than the vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a ... | for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do tha... | Howards End |
"As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." | Margaret | she announced when they arrived.<|quote|>"As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no."</|quote|>"Right. The dining-room." And they | go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived.<|quote|>"As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no."</|quote|>"Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room | Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived.<|quote... | was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so charged with emotion that people only seemed to exist on her account, and she was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one ... | t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts,... | Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Hel... | vermilion giant that had borne Aunt Juley to her doom three years before. "Presumably it s very beautiful," she said. "How do you like it, Crane?" "Come, let s be starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I kno... | a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for i... | Howards End |
"Right. The dining-room." | Henry | wire you yes or no."<|quote|>"Right. The dining-room."</|quote|>And they began their survey. | with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no."<|quote|>"Right. The dining-room."</|quote|>And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but | note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no."<|quote|>"Right. The dining-room."</|quote|>And ... | account, and she was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outsi... | "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve... | that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need... | starting," repeated her host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It ... | towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m g... | Howards End |
And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the... | No speaker | or no." "Right. The dining-room."<|quote|>And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and se... | Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room."<|quote|>And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so... | neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room."<|quote|>And they began their survey. The din... | was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obed... | share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beac... | a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the slums or towards the stars. Some day--in the millennium--there may be no need for his typ... | host. "How on earth did you know that my chauffeur was called Crane?" "Why, I know Crane; I ve been for a drive with Evie once. I know that you ve got a parlourmaid called Milton. I know all sorts of things." "Evie!" he echoed in injured tones. "You won t see her. She s gone out with Cahill. It s no fun, I can tell you... | youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned towards the ... | Howards End |
"Now the entrance-hall." | Henry | Such a room admitted loot.<|quote|>"Now the entrance-hall."</|quote|>The entrance-hall was paved. "Here | the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot.<|quote|>"Now the entrance-hall."</|quote|>The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows | keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot.<|quote|>"Now the entrance-hall."</... | self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Ma... | enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-ro... | intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can sh... | Hullo, Parliament s back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world wil... | share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beac... | Howards End |
The entrance-hall was paved. | No speaker | admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall."<|quote|>The entrance-hall was paved.</|quote|>"Here we fellows smoke." We | into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall."<|quote|>The entrance-hall was paved.</|quote|>"Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of | the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall."<|quote|>The entrance-hal... | with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the mo... | and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began... | am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fi... | back!" Mr. Wilcox glanced at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of cha... | lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion was robust, his hair had receded but not thinned, the thick moustache and the eyes that Helen had compared to brandy-balls had an agreeable menace in them, whether they were turned to... | Howards End |
"Here we fellows smoke." | Henry | entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved.<|quote|>"Here we fellows smoke."</|quote|>We fellows smoked in chairs | room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved.<|quote|>"Here we fellows smoke."</|quote|>We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was | the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved.<|quote|>"Here we fello... | dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the w... | outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The din... | t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or ... | at Parliament contemptuously. The more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagin... | Yet she liked being with him. He was not a rebuke, but a stimulus, and banished morbidity. Some twenty years her senior, he preserved a gift that she supposed herself to have already lost--not youth s creative power, but its self-confidence and optimism. He was so sure that it was a very pleasant world. His complexion ... | Howards End |
We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. | No speaker | paved. "Here we fellows smoke."<|quote|>We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned.</|quote|>"Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking | the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke."<|quote|>We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned.</|quote|>"Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You | of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke."<|quote|>We fellows smo... | gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of... | decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnis... | is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can ... | more important ropes of life lay elsewhere. "Yes, they are talking again," said he. "But you were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity wi... | car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so charged with emotion that people only seemed to exist on her account, and she was surprised that Crane did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological th... | Howards End |
"Oh, jolly!" | Margaret | if a motor-car had spawned.<|quote|>"Oh, jolly!"</|quote|>said Margaret, sinking into one | maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned.<|quote|>"Oh, jolly!"</|quote|>said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like | his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned.<|quote|>"Oh, jol... | those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the ... | as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes th... | those people who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of cour... | were going to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my br... | thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t shar... | Howards End |
said Margaret, sinking into one of them. | No speaker | motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!"<|quote|>said Margaret, sinking into one of them.</|quote|>"You do like it?" he | It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!"<|quote|>said Margaret, sinking into one of them.</|quote|>"You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on | Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!"<|quote|>said Ma... | chairs, that immense sideboard loaded with presentation plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the D... | get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wi... | who run down comforts. They have usually some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn... | to say--" "Only some rubbish about furniture. Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says ... | note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As soon as I get back to Swanage, which will be to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their ... | Howards End |
"You do like it?" | Henry | sinking into one of them.<|quote|>"You do like it?"</|quote|>he said, fixing his eyes | spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them.<|quote|>"You do like it?"</|quote|>he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and | had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them.<|quote|>"You do lik... | plate, stood up against its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer W... | to-morrow afternoon, I ll talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and a... | some axe to grind. Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent near... | Helen says it alone endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, ... | Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I want to go over the whole house," she announced when they arrived. "As so... | Howards End |
he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note. | No speaker | them. "You do like it?"<|quote|>he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note.</|quote|>"It s all rubbish not | Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?"<|quote|>he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note.</|quote|>"It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t | the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?"<|quote|>he said, fixing... | its pressure like men. The room suggested men, and Margaret, keen to derive the modern capitalist from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. ... | talk it over once more with Helen and Tibby, and wire you yes or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrifici... | Can you?" "Comforts are of two kinds," said Margaret, who was keeping herself in hand--" "those we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence di... | endures while men and houses perish, and that in the end the world will be a desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure... | "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is a... | Howards End |
"It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?" | Henry | betraying an almost intimate note.<|quote|>"It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?"</|quote|>"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" | her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note.<|quote|>"It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?"</|quote|>"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" "Gillrays. Shall we go on | paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note.<|quote|>"It s all rubbish not making o... | from the warriors and hunters of the past, saw it as an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows ... | The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret view... | we can share with others, like fire, weather, or music; and those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like t... | desert of chairs and sofas--just imagine it!--rolling through infinity with no one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it."... | or no." "Right. The dining-room." And they began their survey. The dining-room was big, but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denia... | Howards End |
"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" | Margaret | oneself comfortable. Isn t it?"<|quote|>"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?"</|quote|>"Gillrays. Shall we go on | s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?"<|quote|>"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?"</|quote|>"Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?" "Does all this furniture | maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note. "It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?"<|quote|>"Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those... | an ancient guest-hall, where the lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather... | but over-furnished. Chelsea would have moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, am... | those we can t--food, food, for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour... | one to sit upon them." "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate... | his type. At present, homage is due to it from those who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." ... | Howards End |
"Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?" | Henry | "Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?"<|quote|>"Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?"</|quote|>"Does all this furniture come | oneself comfortable. Isn t it?" "Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?"<|quote|>"Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?"</|quote|>"Does all this furniture come from Howards End?" "The Howards | if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note. "It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?" "Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?"<|quote|>"Gillrays. ... | lord sat at meat among his thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had sp... | moaned aloud. Mr. Wilcox had eschewed those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would... | for instance. It depends." "I mean reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and t... | "Your sister always likes her little joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament... | "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softening and turning to her, as if the remark had pleased him. "There is so much cant talked in would-be intellectual circles. I am glad you don t share it. Self-denial is all very well as a means of strengthening the character. But I can t stand those people who run down ... | Howards End |
"Does all this furniture come from Howards End?" | Margaret | Shall we go on upstairs?"<|quote|>"Does all this furniture come from Howards End?"</|quote|>"The Howards End furniture has | Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" "Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?"<|quote|>"Does all this furniture come from Howards End?"</|quote|>"The Howards End furniture has all gone to Oniton." "Does--However, | jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note. "It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?" "Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" "Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?"<|quote|>"Does a... | thanes. Even the Bible--the Dutch Bible that Charles had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Ma... | those decorative schemes that wince, and relent, and refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but ... | reasonable comforts, of course. I shouldn t like to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables o... | joke." "She says Yes, my brother says `No, to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauff... | who think themselves superior, and who possibly are. "At all events you responded to my telegram promptly," he remarked. "Oh, even I know a good thing when I see it." "I m glad you don t despise the goods of this world." "Heavens, no! Only idiots and prigs do that." "I am glad, very glad," he repeated, suddenly softeni... | Howards End |
"The Howards End furniture has all gone to Oniton." | Henry | furniture come from Howards End?"<|quote|>"The Howards End furniture has all gone to Oniton."</|quote|>"Does--However, I m concerned with | on upstairs?" "Does all this furniture come from Howards End?"<|quote|>"The Howards End furniture has all gone to Oniton."</|quote|>"Does--However, I m concerned with the house, not the furniture. | "You do like it?" he said, fixing his eyes on her upturned face, and surely betraying an almost intimate note. "It s all rubbish not making oneself comfortable. Isn t it?" "Ye--es. Semi-rubbish. Are those Cruikshanks?" "Gillrays. Shall we go on upstairs?" "Does all this furniture come from Howards End?"<|quote|>"The Ho... | had brought back from the Boer War--fell into position. Such a room admitted loot. "Now the entrance-hall." The entrance-hall was paved. "Here we fellows smoke." We fellows smoked in chairs of maroon leather. It was as if a motor-car had spawned. "Oh, jolly!" said Margaret, sinking into one of them. "You do like it?" h... | refrain, and achieve beauty by sacrificing comfort and pluck. After so much self-colour and self-denial, Margaret viewed with relief the sumptuous dado, the frieze, the gilded wall-paper, amid whose foliage parrots sang. It would never do with her own furniture, but those heavy chairs, that immense sideboard loaded wit... | to think that you--" He bent nearer; the sentence died unfinished. Margaret s head turned very stupid, and the inside of it seemed to revolve like the beacon in a lighthouse. He did not kiss her, for the hour was half-past twelve, and the car was passing by the stables of Buckingham Palace. But the atmosphere was so ch... | to Ducie Street. It s no fun helping us, Mr. Wilcox, I assure you." "You are not as unpractical as you pretend. I shall never believe it." Margaret laughed. But she was--quite as unpractical. She could not concentrate on details. Parliament, the Thames, the irresponsive chauffeur, would flash into the field of house-hu... | did not realise this, and turn round. Idiot though she might be, surely Mr. Wilcox was more--how should one put it?--more psychological than usual. Always a good judge of character for business purposes, he seemed this afternoon to enlarge his field, and to note qualities outside neatness, obedience, and decision. "I w... | Howards End |
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