Lord Arthur Savile’s Crime and Other StoriesStandard Ebooks This collection of short “mystery” stories by Oscar Wilde was originally published in 1891 and was his second published collection of stories. This edition follows the 1907 edition, which was published after his death and added “The Portrait of Mr. W. H.,” a story first published in 1899. Written around the same time as The Picture of Dorian Gray and before he turned his hand to playwriting, these stories showcase the quintessential Wilde: dark irony combined with an incisive dissection of Victorian society, with just a hint of the supernatural added to amuse and engage his Victorian audience. This book is part of the Standard Ebooks project, which produces free public domain ebooks. |
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Strana
... sweet music ; and all the tender purity of girlhood looked out in wonder from the dreaming eyes . With her soft , clinging dress of crêpe - de - chine , and her large leaf - shaped fan , she looked like one of those delicate little ...
... sweet music ; and all the tender purity of girlhood looked out in wonder from the dreaming eyes . With her soft , clinging dress of crêpe - de - chine , and her large leaf - shaped fan , she looked like one of those delicate little ...
Strana
... sweet of you . And is this the wonderful medicine ? It looks like a bonbon . I'll take it at once . " " Good heavens ! Lady Clem , " cried Lord Arthur , catching hold of her hand , " you mustn't do anything of the kind . It is a ...
... sweet of you . And is this the wonderful medicine ? It looks like a bonbon . I'll take it at once . " " Good heavens ! Lady Clem , " cried Lord Arthur , catching hold of her hand , " you mustn't do anything of the kind . It is a ...
Strana
... sweets. I thought she was far too intellectual.” Lord Arthur grew deadly pale, and a horrible idea crossed his mind. “Bonbon, Sybil? What do you mean?” he said in a slow, hoarse voice. “There is one in it, that is all. It looks quite ...
... sweets. I thought she was far too intellectual.” Lord Arthur grew deadly pale, and a horrible idea crossed his mind. “Bonbon, Sybil? What do you mean?” he said in a slow, hoarse voice. “There is one in it, that is all. It looks quite ...
Strana
... sweet voice, or saw, deep in the rustling fern, the burnished breast of the pheasant. Little squirrels peered at them from the beech-trees as they went by, and the rabbits scudded away through the brushwood and over the mossy knolls ...
... sweet voice, or saw, deep in the rustling fern, the burnished breast of the pheasant. Little squirrels peered at them from the beech-trees as they went by, and the rabbits scudded away through the brushwood and over the mossy knolls ...
Strana
... sweet Puritan gravity , caught from some old New England ancestor . " Oh , I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics ! My wife was very plain , never had my ruffs properly starched , and knew nothing about cookery . Why , there was a ...
... sweet Puritan gravity , caught from some old New England ancestor . " Oh , I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics ! My wife was very plain , never had my ruffs properly starched , and knew nothing about cookery . Why , there was a ...
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