The immortal flame

“My hiding-place--my beautiful retreat!” she exclaimed, under her breath, and looked with passionate intensity at the wild, rocky coast-line which stretched as far as eye could...

Isma sat by the window in her cool drawing-room, looking out into the glaring, dust-laden atmosphere. A hot wind was blowing, bending the flowers in the garden and bruising them...

“No, you are not too late,” the woman in the pink uniform hastened to assure her, “but I am afraid there is not much time left. Lady Berriedale is sinking fast. I saw your car c...