Lucia in London

Considering that Philip Lucas’s aunt who died early in April was no less than eighty-three years old, and had spent the last seven of them bedridden in a private lunatic asylum,...

This simple word “No” connoted a great deal in the Riseholme vernacular. It was used, of course, as a mere negative, without emphasis, and if you wanted to give weight to your n...

Georgie had only just come down to breakfast and had not yet opened his _Times_, one morning at the end of this hectic week, when the telephone bell rang. Lucia had not been see...

The committee met that very afternoon, and the next morning and the next afternoon, and the scheme quickly took shape. Robert, rolling in golden billows of Roumanion oil, was ca...

A cab had certainly driven from the station to The Hurst late on Friday evening, but owing to the darkness it was not known who got out of it. Previously the windows of The Hurs...

Lucia’s guests went off by the early train next morning and she was left, like Marius among the ruins of Carthage. But, unlike that weak-hearted senator, she had no intention of...

“My dear, she’s marvellous,” she said to Aggie. “She’s a study. She’s cosmic. The telephone, the curtsey! I’ve never seen the like. But why in the name of wonder didn’t she tell...

A few minutes before Lucia and Pepino drove off next morning from Brompton Square, Marcia observed Lucia’s announcement in the _Morning Post_. She was a good-natured woman, but...

Poor Pepino’s cold next day, instead of being better, was a good deal worse. He had aches and pains, and felt feverish, and sent for the doctor, who peremptorily ordered him to...

To-day, the last of August, Pepino had been allowed for the first time to go out and have a half-hour’s quiet strolling in the garden and sit in the sun. His illness which had c...

Lucia made no allusion whatever to her athletic triumph in the afternoon when Georgie appeared. That was not her way: she just triumphed, and left other people to talk about it....