|
cf6ecf0
|
It was only the first stage, that was all. It was only the first knot in the snare, the first flick of the hook; the first hint of the spin in the arrow. The first letting of blood not his own.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
e9e80b7
|
This is a clever bastard, my friends. I like that word for instance.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
0cba52f
|
And for Adam Blacklock the artist, older, wiser, and perhaps less vulnerable than once he had been, a chance to assess from maturity a person whose maturity was and always had been a thing disconcerting to witness. For what, after these violent years, would entertain or even interest Francis Crawford, Blacklock found he had no idea.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
831f36b
|
About his lengthening absence, Kathi spoke only once, and then obliquely, for there were some things too painful for words.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
6084d7e
|
The words now had meaning. All poetry had meaning, and sorrow she had never envisaged. Behind, veiled in soft rain as the dragon-prowed barge slid across the grey water to Pera, she saw for the last time close at hand the soft, frescoed height of the Seraglio, heart of the Ottoman world, its domes and chimneys and towers, its tall cypresses and gardens picked out in grisaille and gold. Today, perhaps, the Gate of the Dead would perform its ..
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
8ad15a0
|
You see someone before you who is not afraid to say what he thinks, provided he is in a position of ascendancy with a door open behind him and a knife gripped in each hand.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
056c5f9
|
For a moment Lymond remained there, surveying them. His eight officers, staring edgily back, saw a delicate-looking gentleman in a pretty paned and pinked tunic with the finest voile shirt bands and a link-belt of Italian enamel work. A man whose yellow hair, dry and light and unevenly tipped, eclipsed the sunlight behind him, and whose attic profile and unoccupied, long-shafted hands caused a small moan of ecstasy to burst, very circumspec..
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
1ba8aea
|
He knew what would happen. He has laid wagers with himself, I imagine, for days: how many hours, how many miles towards safety before he has to drop out.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
42f8f4c
|
The beauty of worthy things is not in the face but in the backside, endearing more by their departure than their address.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
9424a4a
|
Daniel Hislop, the son of the bishop?' 'The Bishop's bastard,' said Hislop, with a cold-eyed assumption of coyness. 'Sir. My lord. Jesus.' Lymond's eyes turned to him, open. Then changing position, he seated himself, and placed his hands gently on the table before him. 'Sir will do,' said Lymond calmly, 'unless you receive divine witness to the contrary.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
7ba7758
|
But you didn't know about the woman, dear Alec,' said Danny Hislop at supper that night, when Lymond had walked down to his horse and departed. 'Nobody told us about the woman. Guzel. The Mistress. What if they have a tiff and she withdraws all her assets before the Tsar has decided to keep us? What,' said Danny dreamily, 'if she takes against our coarse ways when she meets us? Or decides she'd prefer one of us to sweet Francis?... Jesus?....
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
afff8d3
|
The nursing brethren spoke in whispers to Jerott. Such stillness was what the overstrained body required. Pray God it would last. Downstairs, Jerott unleashed his anxious irritation on Marthe. 'They know it can't last. Why don't they admit it?' 'They are kind. They are innocent. They believe God is merciful,' said Marthe.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
e265164
|
Music, the knife without a hilt.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
ce8d133
|
His lawte maid him presoner to be, And for the commoun proffet of the land He chesit him as presoner to stand. NICHOLAS DE FLEURY, immured with his charge on the English border at Upsettlington, had by this time no heavenly credit left, unless his state of mind was proof against angels.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
fc4dbf9
|
belongs to M. de St Pol. I think he has a great deal of ingenuity, but today he is not
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
9013919
|
Bruges was the multiple voice of working water; and the quality of brick-thrown echoes, and the hiss of trees and the flap of drying cloths in the flat-country wind, and the grunting, like frogs in a marsh, of quires of crucified clothes, left to vibrate in the fields of the tenters.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
0d4f2f8
|
whole oxen confessed to the fires at each end and reached sizzling Judgment on the crowded tables, alongside pies and puddings and heaped fragrant trenchers and jars of bland, too-warm wines.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
54b65a3
|
THE ELEGANT WORKING out of designs historical and romantic, political and commercial, psychological and moral, over a multivolume novel is a Dorothy Dunnett specialty.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
b9a3b78
|
que je vive, mon cueur ne changera ... Mon chois est fait, aultre ne se fera ...
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
4e1f13f
|
A moment later the music began, and Kate shrank beneath the onslaught of its message: the fury of hope and joy that towered in the notes, outburning the sunlight and outpouring the volumes of the sea. All that was bold and noble and happy in created sound burst from the metempirical quills, and it was a blasphemy not to rejoice. Christian died in its midst, purposeful and successful; the last struggle unseen by anyone but Kate, and laying n..
|
|
joy-of-life
dying
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
84d7668
|
Lymond ha vuelto
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
99cd9ca
|
As a highly qualified Turkish-trained concubine from the harem of Suleiman the Magnificent, Philippa Somerville settled into English court life as a kite among chickens, and as a kite among kites into the Spanish court of the new King-consort Philip.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
30cb8ff
|
But I can't offer you a zoo at St Mary's. Can you make do with what I have?' 'With Hoddim and Guthrie and Blacklock? What you have is a zoo.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
7771f65
|
You don't take offence?" "Frequently," Nicholas said. "I seldom show it."
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
9dcdd6a
|
On the day that his grannie was killed by the English, Sir William Scott the Younger of Buccleuch was at Melrose Abbey, marrying his aunt.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
9a324ff
|
You don't understand,' she said. In her lap, the loose hands had ground together: between the fair brows a single line showed, of anger and disgust and a kind of futile perplexity. 'You don't understand: how can you? You were born into a household, with parents and wealth; you knew your friends and your enemies; you knew your position in life; whom you were fighting for: whom you were against. I am alone. Every man is my enemy.
|
|
marthe
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
0fbc289
|
and had
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
495b803
|
His chest heaved, and he coughed. "You have coughed before," his mother said. "It is a sign of weakness. Control it."
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
79af36e
|
Alec Guthrie's voice, serene from the shadows, said, "You are not going to Russia. You are not going. All your life you have resented control and brooked no hint of instruction or guidance. This time, your will is not paramount."
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
59166b7
|
Alec Guthrie's voice, serene from the shadows, said, 'You are not going to Russia. You are not going. All your life you have resented control and brooked no hint of instruction or guidance. This time, your will is not paramount.
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |
|
a40f61a
|
man had blandly abstained. He had been right: it would have lost him money. But not in Scotland,
|
|
|
Dorothy Dunnett |