Lord Arthur Savile's Crime谷月社, 30. 10. 2015 It was Lady Windermere’s last reception before Easter, and Bentinck House was even more crowded than usual. Six Cabinet Ministers had come on from the Speaker’s Levée in their stars and ribands, all the pretty women wore their smartest dresses, and at the end of the picture-gallery stood the Princess Sophia of Carlsrühe, a heavy Tartar-looking lady, with tiny black eyes and wonderful emeralds, talking bad French at the top of her voice, and laughing immoderately at everything that was said to her. It was certainly a wonderful medley of people. Gorgeous peeresses chatted affably to violent Radicals, popular preachers brushed coat-tails with eminent sceptics, a perfect bevy of bishops kept following a stout prima-donna from room to room, on the staircase stood several Royal Academicians, disguised as artists, and it was said that at one time the supper-room was absolutely crammed with geniuses. In fact, it was one of Lady Windermere’s best nights, and the Princess stayed till nearly half-past eleven. As soon as she had gone, Lady Windermere returned to the picture-gallery, where a celebrated political economist was solemnly explaining the scientific theory of music to an indignant virtuoso from Hungary, and began to talk to the Duchess of Paisley. She looked wonderfully beautiful with her grand ivory throat, her large blue forget-me-not eyes, and her heavy coils of golden hair....
|
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 41.
... seemed afraid to face the odd little man with his stereotyped smile , his gold spectacles , and his bright , beady eyes ; and when he told poor Lady Fermor , right out before every one , that she did not care a bit for music , but was ...
... seemed to pass through him, and his great bushy eyebrows twitched convulsively, in an odd, irritating way they had when he was puzzled. Then some huge beads of perspiration broke out on his yellow forehead, like a poisonous dew, and his ...
... seemed turned to stone, and his face was like marble in its melancholy. He had lived the delicate and luxurious life of a young man of birth and fortune, a life exquisite in its freedom from sordid care, its beautiful boyish insouciance ...
... seemed to him of very little importance at that moment. He walked across the room to where Mr. Podgers was standing, and held his hand out. 'Tell me what you saw there,' he said. 'Tell me the truth. I must know it. I am not a child.' Mr ...
... seemed to know it , and the desolate wind to howl it in his ear . The dark corners of the streets were full of it . It grinned at him from the roofs of the houses . First he came to the Park , whose sombre woodland seemed to fascinate ...
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Lord Arthur Savile's Crime: The Portrait of Mr. W.H., and Other Stories Oscar Wilde Úplné zobrazenie - 1914 |