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E. Phillips Oppenheim
The Tempting of Tavernake
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066233433
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST
CHAPTER II. A TETE-A-TETE SUPPER
CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT MEETING
CHAPTER IV. BREAKFAST WITH BEATRICE
CHAPTER V. INTRODUCING Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER
CHAPTER VI. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
CHAPTER VII. Mr. PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK
CHAPTER XI. A BEWILDERING OFFER
CHAPTER XII. TAVERNAKE BLUNDERS
CHAPTER XIV. A WARNING FROM Mr. PRITCHARD
CHAPTER, XV. GENERAL DISCONTENT
CHAPTER XVI. AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE
CHAPTER XVII. THE BALCONY AT IMANO'S
CHAPTER XVIII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
CHAPTER XIX. TAVERNAKE INTERVENES
CHAPTER XX. A PLEASANT REUNION
CHAPTER XXI. SOME EXCELLENT ADVICE
CHAPTER XXII. DINNER WITH ELIZABETH
CHAPTER XXIII. ON AN ERRAND OF CHIVALRY
CHAPTER XXIV. CLOSE TO TRAGEDY
CHAPTER XXVII. TAVERNAKE CHOOSES
CHAPTER IV. PRITCHARD'S GOOD NEWS
CHAPTER VI. UNDERSTANDING COMES TOO LATE
CHAPTER VII. IN A VIRGIN COUNTRY
CHAPTER VIII. BACK TO CIVILIZATION
BOOK ONE
CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST
They stood upon the roof of a London boarding-house in the neighborhood of Russell Square—one of those grim shelters, the refuge of Transatlantic curiosity and British penury. The girl—she represented the former race was leaning against the frail palisading, with gloomy expression and eyes set as though in fixed contemplation of the uninspiring panorama. The young man—unmistakably, uncompromisingly English—stood with his back to the chimney a few feet away, watching his companion. The silence between them was as yet unbroken, had lasted, indeed, since she had stolen away from the shabby drawing-room below, where a florid lady with a raucous voice had been shouting a music-hall ditty. Close upon her heels, but without speech of any sort, he had followed. They were almost strangers, except for the occasional word or two of greeting which the etiquette of the establishment demanded. Yet she had accepted his espionage without any protest of word or look. He had followed her with a very definite object. Had she surmised it, he wondered? She had not turned her head or vouchsafed even a single question or remark to him since he had pushed his way through the trap-door almost at her heels and stepped out on to the leads. Yet it seemed to him that she must guess.
Below them, what seemed to be the phantasm of a painted city, a wilderness of housetops, of smoke-wreathed spires and chimneys, stretched away to a murky, blood-red horizon. Even as they stood there, a deeper color stained the