Description
Excerpt from The Privateers
The wind by this time had risen to a petty gale, and came over the brow Of the cliffs from the sea with considerable force. The blue sea was aglitter with foam-heads, and in the dim haze of the horizon one seemed to discern, or imagine, the mass Of the adjacent continent. Sea-birds cried and ?ew ''twixt the cliff and the water, and a small steamer ploughed heavily across the middle distance, rounding the Island from Shanklin or Ventnor. I made these Observations with a mind pleasantly and idly occupied, and then I turned and saw Miss Lovell.
She was at the edge Of the cliff, a hundred yards away, and I do not think she was aware Of my presence. She gave me at that distance but the impression Of a white figure, with blown skirts, for the wind was romping with her. Yet even so I was attracted by the picture she made, instinct apparently with youth and freshness, and facing that deep void beneath her with the magnificent unconsciousness Of health. And so in my course I moved slowly in her direction, with some curiosity to see her closer, that innocent curiosity which is bred in a holiday mood and in a place Of strangers. It was when I was already'' within a dozen paces Of her that she withdrew her gaze from the sea, and turned to go. Then I had a clear sight Of her. She was above the mean height Of women, as young as the spring, frank and bright Of eye, and full Of warm blood. T 0 that her complexion spoke, for her face was delicately ?ushed and happy. She almost smiled at me, as our looks met, and I was conscious that it would have been the smile Of mere animal content; or rather, I should say the ebullition Of an innocent child abandoned to its mood. As it was, the habit Of restraint which in that exhilaration she had thrown aside returned in time; and she passed me with a very proper face, demure and conscious; but the wanton wind still played tricks with her skirt.
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Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
The wind by this time had risen to a petty gale, and came over the brow Of the cliffs from the sea with considerable force. The blue sea was aglitter with foam-heads, and in the dim haze of the horizon one seemed to discern, or imagine, the mass Of the adjacent continent. Sea-birds cried and ?ew ''twixt the cliff and the water, and a small steamer ploughed heavily across the middle distance, rounding the Island from Shanklin or Ventnor. I made these Observations with a mind pleasantly and idly occupied, and then I turned and saw Miss Lovell.
She was at the edge Of the cliff, a hundred yards away, and I do not think she was aware Of my presence. She gave me at that distance but the impression Of a white figure, with blown skirts, for the wind was romping with her. Yet even so I was attracted by the picture she made, instinct apparently with youth and freshness, and facing that deep void beneath her with the magnificent unconsciousness Of health. And so in my course I moved slowly in her direction, with some curiosity to see her closer, that innocent curiosity which is bred in a holiday mood and in a place Of strangers. It was when I was already'' within a dozen paces Of her that she withdrew her gaze from the sea, and turned to go. Then I had a clear sight Of her. She was above the mean height Of women, as young as the spring, frank and bright Of eye, and full Of warm blood. T 0 that her complexion spoke, for her face was delicately ?ushed and happy. She almost smiled at me, as our looks met, and I was conscious that it would have been the smile Of mere animal content; or rather, I should say the ebullition Of an innocent child abandoned to its mood. As it was, the habit Of restraint which in that exhilaration she had thrown aside returned in time; and she passed me with a very proper face, demure and conscious; but the wanton wind still played tricks with her skirt.
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Details
Publisher - Forgotten Books
Language - English
Hardback
Contributors
Author
Henry Brereton Marriott Watson
Published Date -
ISBN - 9781528060271
Dimensions - 22.9 x 15.2 x 2.4 cm
Page Count - 439
Paperback
Contributors
Author
Henry Brereton Marriott Watson
Published Date -
ISBN - 9781334095948
Dimensions - 22.9 x 15.2 x 2.4 cm
Page Count - 441
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