Margret Howth: A Story of To-day

Let me tell you a story of To-Day,--very homely and narrow in its scope and aim. Not of the To-Day whose significance in the history of humanity only those shall read who will l...

Now that I have come to the love part of my story, I am suddenly conscious of dingy common colors on the palette with which I have been painting. I wish I had some brilliant dye...

It was later than Holmes thought: a gray, cold evening. The streets in that suburb were lonely: he went down them, the new-fallen snow dulling his step. It had covered the peake...

An hour after, the evening came on sultry, the air murky, opaque, with yellow trails of colour dragging in the west: a sullen stillness in the woods and farms; only, in fact, th...

She entered the vast, dingy factory; the woollen dust, the clammy air of copperas were easier to breathe in; the cramped, sordid office, the work, mere trifles to laugh at; and...

If Knowles hated anybody that night, he hated the man he had left standing there with pale, heavy jaws, and heart of iron; he could have cursed him, standing there. He did not s...

The morning, when it came long after, came quiet and cool,--the warm red dawn helplessly smothered under great waves of gray cloud. Margret, looking out into the thick fog, lay...

I am going to end my story now. There are phases more vivid in the commonplace lives of these men and women, I do not doubt: love, as poignant as pain in its joy; crime, weak an...

There was a dull smell of camphor; a farther sense of coolness and prickling wet on Holmes's hot, cracking face and hands; then silence and sleep again. Sometime--when, he never...

For that night, at least, Holmes swept his soul clean of doubt and indecision; one of his natures was conquered,--finally, he thought. Polston, if he had seen his face as he pac...

The evening came on, slow and cold. Life itself, the Doctor thought, impatiently, was cool and tardy here among the hills. Even he fell into the tranquil tone, and chafed under...