Roman pictures

A lonely young pilgrim, Deering, a citizen of the world, his Roman accent, the English ghetto, the real Rome, plump but elegant, the newest culture, the raw world, the way to re...

It was settled, then, that he was to hale me out of my sentimental twilight into the broad noon of reality; I had lived for too long in a dream, and now he promised himself the...

I never saw Jaff and Edna perform their turn at the Trianon, indeed I never saw them again; I don’t know what became of them or whether they managed to get what I soon found the...

“Ah well,” said Cooksey, and he didn’t laugh. I was so frankly surprised that my jaw dropped, as people say; I blushed hotly--there yawned between us a pause. “On that subject,”...

She was small and shabby and very neat; her hair, under her black veil, was scraped together in a little grey knob; she had a strange old mantle upon her, short to her waist, of...

And then he told us of the long evenings he had spent, year after year, in wandering among the ancient byways of the city--every day, when he was turned out of the library at th...

Teresa began to recount with vivacity the story of our acquaintance. Luigi listened to her for a moment and then murmured a few quick words of Italian, I don’t know what they we...

“I think you are not so English as we are,” cried Berta; and indeed it might seem so, as my eyes wandered away from Piccadilly Circus and followed the old priest and the childre...

Truly the Russian wild sends out strange little emissaries to the cities of civilization. This tiny frail slip of a woman, who looked as though a puff of air from the frozen pla...

The finest instrument of her superiority, could the rest of the company perceive it, was her Italian accent. It was probably lost on them, but it did all its execution on me. Sh...

But no, the story of Mr. Bashford was not such as you might suppose. Later on I learned it, and I found to my surprise that this golfing gossiping puffing Englishman, with the r...

But here was old Platt; before we had noticed his entry he was bending over those very fingers, elegantly saluting Miss Gainsborough; and before she had time to forget herself h...

Miss Turnbull had met him at Assisi, and though she didn’t think much of him as a man--he had none of the square-jawed virility of Emmeline’s heroes--she was impressed by his au...

It was the spirit of those old fine men, the scholars of the great revival, to whom the glory of antiquity was disclosed in the recovery of the lost books and the forgotten tong...

The artist was now at work again; he was mounted on his step-ladder, that is to say, with brush poised and palette displayed, and at intervals he gave a masterly stroke to the A...

It was a pleasantly expressive picture all the same, that of the group in the corner. The parti-coloured lady, who was by no means young, had so settled herself that she appeare...