In Paris there was an increasing feeling of terror. Paris, irritated at first against Versailles, shivering at the recollection of what it had suffered during the siege, was now breaking away from the Commune. The compulsory enrollment, the decree incorporating every man under forty in the National Guard, had angered the more sedate citizens and been the means of bringing about a general exodus: men in disguise and provided with forged papers of Alsatian citizenship made their escape by way of Saint-Denis; others let themselves down into the moat in the darkness of the night with ropes and ladders. The wealthy had long since taken their departure. None of the factories and workshops had opened their doors; trade and commerce there was none; there was no employment for labor; the life of enforced idleness went on amid the alarmed expectancy of the frightful denouement that everyone felt could not be far away. And the people depended for their daily bread on the pay of the National Guards, that dole of thirty sous that was paid from the millions extorted from the Bank of France, the thirty sous for the sake of which alone many men were wearing the uniform, which had been one of the primary causes and the _raison d'etre_ of the insurrection. Whole districts were deserted, the shops closed, the house-fronts lifeless. In the bright May sunshine that flooded the empty streets the few pedestrians beheld nothing moving save the barbaric display of the burial of some federates killed in action, the funeral train where no priest walked, the hearse draped with red flags, followed by a crowd of men and women bearing bouquets of immortelles. The churches were closed and did duty each evening as political club-rooms. The revolutionary journals alone were hawked about the streets; the others had been suppressed. Great Paris was indeed an unhappy city in those days, what with its republican sympathies that made it detest the monarchical Assembly at Versailles and its ever-increasing terror of the Commune, from which it prayed most fervently to be delivered among all the grisly stories that were current, the daily arrests of citizens as hostages, the casks of gunpowder that filled the sewers, where men patrolled by day and night awaiting the signal to apply the torch.  "http://www.jewelrystore-online.net/tiffany-c-1.html" mce_href="http://www.jewelrystore-online.net/tiffany-c-1.html"cheap tiffany

1 yorum Devamini oku

Far in the distance, is it right? Can also give the heart to pull away? Whether in the wind or in the rain, I waited for you for the umbrella with me up. Maybe, we should not know, should not love, but, why I can't put the silk thread to tie him down? Read what you write, listen to you carefully selected songs, think when I miss you, you can quietly came to my side, think in because I miss you, can you serve me a side embroidered handkerchief tears when. Even you, also can only far stood in front of the window under the trees. Why do I love you, but not to be together with you? You have come into my heart, the sky falling snow, the world is full of your shadow. Always inadvertently, question the stars in the sky, how far apart we are, perhaps, the heart is very near, why? Love! But became a forever of pain? Cut missing pages, hanging in my sad heart empty? Let such a beautiful fairy tale, quietly, turned into a ice, sad tears!? Tonight, let you into my dream, in the dream, I can and you work together to murmur, and you can silently silent loving each other, in the dream, you are so handsome, so love silently. In the dream, my long hair as you ju, wearing a purple Shayi me is so beautiful. In the dream, I can with you hand in hand, walked past the full of clove trees, in the dream, you and me together side by side, enjoying the moon, in the dream, you look at my gentle eyes, let me become so shy ... ... Maybe, there is one kind of love, is not need commitment, there is a love, just offer, there is a love, also only will blossom, no results ... ... It is a dream, there is always awake. In the boundless huge crowd, you will remember me? Will remember, in your heart, there was a familiar name? Even if this life we are unable to meet, even in the afterlife, we can only once again. In the dream, I will leave you with a sweet smile. If so, have a beautiful encounter, if, you gave me a love, in the dream, I will not, in the dream to you like, I can only silently watching you, looking at you far of figure, quietly tell you, I have you, to love you ... ...

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Clap for the league, flowers without fruit we clap for the league, lying together, who said that? The past flowers flowers.

-- "

Winter is coming from the far north, handsome, a cold is overwhelming, the seasons to complete the process of it joy or tragic, way to season under a rebirth, autumn came, it brought to the meaning of life, proceed without hesitation in the parting of the season have left, the don't give up and love stay gives golden land, then no period, in this one season meet engraved with the eternity of awakening, winter has come, it is gentle and eager, between day and night with the miserable conditions, act recklessly and care for nobody to deduce, playing a parting sorrow at the end of the year in.

Had not snow, sunshine in the winter sky littered the ground, leaves and shoot a golden afterglow reflected in the eyes, a group of geese fly finally leave together, after the beautiful posture silence, leaving a blank piece of dark clouds piled up, the sky is clear day, blending in dream and fantasy of the drift is not in set, a cloud day, walking in the progression of seasons alternating, the fleeting time in the water from the lips bloom time, Weiweidaolai old white, annals in those lonely not think constantly of remember fondly, is pounded the flowers sing red many times, and leaves her so much? Don't say, people lose weight, keep quiet perfect conjugal bliss.

The stage of youth gazed once in the past, the big red actor " Qing Yan, Fu Xiu fragrant dressed in clothes a cappella, how is my for thousands of years, distant look down at, suona erhu strings song, I was speechless to tear falls sadly chokes, those promises to hold hand of the child life and death go hand in hand, in the bath fire red nation, smelting woven into a promise with no intention of doing the joke? The past palmprint eventually difficult sincere heat, close distance station into the horizon, that one sentence, I love you, soundless and stirless, boiling in the blood, look, the traceless, pain in the heart.

Walking alone in the Red Road, understand all branch sadness together, those who can't wait to play forever, in the warm season was merciless wind, watching the world confused repeated entanglement, and the sunflowers vegetable paper pen to draw days, only full of dreams and feelings, as in the past to remember you have to laugh at life fleeting, ups and downs of the past waving bustling with the vicissitudes of life once, the pain of a pen, but fell not exchange solemn vows and pledges answer, ending the silent, personnel has points.

If it blossoms have a deadline, then chased the butterfly can be forever buried in the season, if love is forever the eternal vow, confidante will not have tears dye chordotonal heartbroken, this life of the red rain, who was arrested a handful of love be passionately devoted,? The flowers of spring the flower? The fingers of the resolution down waving to the endless world, past the flowers without fruit, brilliant purples and reds is the rain, leaves the world, an Acacia red, fade in you and I present the legend, such as songs, such as litigation, such as yesterday.

Gradually far, can not see the shadow, disappear in front of him, but incapable of action, can do just quietly watched, until the end of life at the end, some people say ' my life yearns to be collection, placed properly, careful preservation, lest I suffer, I was free, free me from four down, no I have no branch can depend on, but this guy, I know, I know, he will never come. This pain in the apex of the sentence, not romantic, but close to you and I are insubstantial objects show, once every moment of life back, engraved with the established disaster, I use the reincarnation samsara, on the opposite side, bitter taste, bitter brew.

The red warriors, again have no Yan, fame and the time in your life to lead, with Fangfang Title cast read my life emotion, every read will be overcome by one's feelings lost in thoughts of the sea, so many day and night my humble bent, measuring the distance between you and me is actually how far is it? My far and the pro scene watch? For me, reading every piece of love poems?

Everything seemed to have gone far, relevant, irrelevant has weak water three thousand, bright days wrapped in no time, beautiful scenery missing millennium, time division and turned away, then, one's nobility lasts forever, cloud water to meet, the stranger couldn't years meet, send Acacia east around Tsing Yi, red, yellow thin face, unexpectedly is the age of the line off the attachment of dust, a never climb the ridge beam become, pain, you will never understand.

We clap for the league, with the lie, into the wall outside the city, beautiful who forever? Open the heart door, out of the right one is in full bloom, promises don't feast, who runs the memory of youth? Shut the heart door, listen to the burning tone strings broken bustling such as refining, peerless Taoyuan, causal destined for, ask a flute willow as dielectric, the breeze as the broken bridge, the afterlife, I like today, love you! The vertical character constant.

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If one day, I betrayed myself, I hope you can at a time, will I wake up, tell me gently: baby, you still you, I or me. Kiss, that time, I want to say, I will go with you, happy couple in the world, never abandon.

[ a ]

From a certain time comes, I think, that year, I am brave enough, because love, because the choice, I will own completely banished in the boundless wilderness, a person, take one's ease.

In those days, if not because of that choice, today I will be happy, is it right? Many? Perhaps not many years later, you meet, fall in love with you?

I always remember, you say: baby, I miss you.

Sound is a kind of soft, gentle, gentle, quiet tone, sound to make people feel comfortable. I love this comfortable, it is like a spring breeze, blowing through the bottom of my heart, on a warm wave.

I think, at that time, I would like on a sunny day, just like the look in your eyes, and I love, you love.

Daylight allure, I gently leaning against the door, see you for my luggage, when the sun is shining brightly, you stand up, turn around, hold me tight, the kind of intimacy and soft, melting of all, straight people indulge.

" Tomorrow, I will go, will you think of me? " I say.

" Baby, will, will. I will be very hard to think of you. "

I do not speak, eyes but is the light glistening.

You hold me tight, as if with all strength.

And I don't struggle, in your arms, miss our thoughts.

Two.

After I leave.

Blurred moon night, hold in your memory, a gentle greeting sound, warm you remember.

Have you, I will not envy other people's happiness, I enjoy your thoughtfulness, in you, or do not have all day to accompany you, when I think of you, my heart will be warm, that is better than the warmth of the sun, shining with my sorrow.

" Baby, if you are tired, you come back to me, I still love you. "

I smile, you can't see my lips that curved arc, it is so peaceful and beautiful, but I know, you can feel my heart glad, that joy is raging, surging.

" Personally, I know, if I was tired, I will come back to you, you will be in place waiting for me, at that time, I will not leave you. "

You promised, I answered.

Yes, many beautiful promises, so pure, so quiet.

Dear, you know, I can give you, is the sweet sorrow, it would tightly around in your side, because of me, because of you, because we are in every bit of time together, is full of quiet soft.

Want to at that time, a woman all regard with equanimity, behavior between static Xian well looks good and soft. Don't want to be a woman to reach the acme of perfection, but at least to keep the heart clear, in the world, also do not forget their own initial.

From the time of the end, I walked quietly, you, still in the side quietly watch?

Three.

" Personally, I'm tired. "

" Baby, come back. I am still in the original place, waiting for you. "

Dear, you know? In your arms, gently nest, doing nothing, just lying quietly, unloaded all my disguise, do a happy little woman, that kind of happiness, is my great III for fu.

Dear, when I was back, this is to give a pleasant smile of a woman, but in your heart in full bloom the flower. Look at your eyes flow waves, I quiet like a quiet landscape, I was painting, painting is you.

To run into your arms, just know, more freedom than the warmth of your arms brought happiness. I said, I said: believe me, the beautiful scenery, are more than the setting sun in the shadow of your.

Personally, I really, really tired, just rest in you for my barrier castle, can ease sleep, in your eyes, dream life. Gently I stand beside you, I am the past life are in full bloom in your heart lake lotus, maintain one's original pure character, pass by, in your youth, leaving a bright.

Know what? Only because of love, so, just come back, love you love me tender, love your body smell of tobacco, the faint scent, wrapped around me, let me for you, only for you to indulge.

Four.

Hold your hand again, that kind of feeling still makes people restless.

This life, only to be warm and thin cool woman, in our city, quiet.

And you in the together day, very sweet, even if it's just sit in the corner, to hear you say those on-the-job field " killing" of be struck with fright; even if it's just to hear you say that I am happy words; even just don't say anything, just sit there quietly, holding hands, tightly, tightly.

I was a little girl, like some little romantic sentiment, love in the years threshold, enjoy the romantic themes, see flower is defeated, a quiet.

And you, like a ray of sunshine, look through my heart, instant bright my sky.

Dear, you know? Everything is beautiful, because of you. Don't ever preexistence, regardless of the afterlife, only wish this present life, you in the street corner, silent stand a scenery, etc. I pass by your youth, in each other's lives, a clear sign of.

" Baby, I just want you happy. "

I know.

We really, really don't need too many words, you want to say, I know; and I thought, you know. So, in silence, staring at it, in the long time, one of the most spectacular scenery.

Five.

If that night, I looked back, the story will have a different ending? That night, turned, croon, I know, you listen, only you, will seriously listen to my heart.

That night, said so much, or not enough, not enough. Sometimes, I am a greedy boy, love your gentleness, love your thoughtfulness, love you all in silence.

If, after daybreak, we know will farewell, then, we is it right? Will the night, once shed floods down one's cheeks. Talk? Pro, sometimes, I just want to stay in a quiet corner, to protect myself, just hope you quietly accompany at me nearby, I see the tears.

" Baby, I said so much, you'll see, is? "

I looked at you, and in your heart: kiss, how could I not understand? How can we not understand?

Stand by your side, gently from behind around you, carefully grind your clothes with the face, fresh taste, filled my nose ala, pro, I like to spend time, does not noisy, regard with equanimity.

Six.

Pro, for a long time did not write, write, write love, romantic themes, life is so hard, and I have hope, love, the pursuit of romantic woman from that, a practice of a rush for survival of the woman, this section of the road, so long, without you, I am the only.

Now, the pen, ink, as you mention this que word, keep silent in away from your city, meet, silence. Next year, we will be together, hand in hand through the street, go to the coffee shop, drink with a kind of coffee, saying the same topic, at that time, you are smiling, sorrow, in front of me?

Kiss, time if water, always silent, that night, pass by your youth, I abandoned by my heart, the heart of the crystal heart, stay in your side, day and night to be very worried about you, for you to be wild with joy.

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1 yorum Devamini oku

Philip had long divined a part of his dear little friend’s history. An uneducated young girl had been found, cajoled, deserted by a gentleman of the world. And poor Caroline was the victim, and Philip’s own father the seducer. He easily guessed as much as this of the sad little story. Dr. Firmin’s part in it was enough to shock his son with a thrill of disgust, and to increase the mistrust, doubt, alienation, with which the father had long inspired the son. What would Philip feel, when all the pages of that dark book were opened to him, and he came to hear of a false marriage, and a ruined and outcast woman, deserted for years by the man to whom he himself was most bound? In a word, Philip had considered this as a mere case of early libertinism, and no more: and it was as such, in the very few words which he may have uttered to me respecting this matter, that he had chosen to regard it. I knew no more than my friend had told me of the story as yet; it was only by degrees that I learned it, and as events, now subsequent, served to develop and explain it.

The elder Firmin, when questioned by his old acquaintance, and, as it appeared, accomplice of former days, regarding the end of a certain intrigue at Margate, which had occurred some four or five and twenty years back, and when Firmin, having reason to avoid his college creditors, chose to live away and bear a false name, had told the clergyman a number of falsehoods, which appeared to satisfy him. What had become of that poor little thing about whom he had made such a fool of himself? Oh, she was dead, dead ever so many years before. He had pensioned her off. She had married, and died in Canada — yes, in Canada. Poor little thing! Yes, she was a good little thing, and, at one time, he had been very soft about her. I am sorry to have to state of a respectable gentleman, that he told lies, and told lies habitually and easily. But, you see, if you commit a crime, and break a seventh commandment let us say, or an eighth, or choose any number you will — you will probably have to back the lie of action by the lie of the tongue, and so you are fairly warned, and I have no help for you. If I murder a man, and the policeman inquires, “Pray, sir, did you cut this here gentleman’s throat?” I must bear false witness, you see, out of self-defence, though I may be naturally a most reliable, truth-telling man. And so with regard to many crimes which gentlemen commit — it is painful to have to say respecting gentlemen, but they become neither more nor less than habitual liars, and have to go lying on through life to you, to me, to the servants, to their wives, to their children, to — oh, awful name! I bow and humble myself. May we kneel, may we kneel, nor strive to speak our falsehoods before Thee!

And so, my dear sir, seeing that after committing any infraction of the moral laws, you must tell lies in order to back yourself out of your scrape, let me ask you, as a man of honour and a gentleman, whether you had not better forego the crime, so as to avoid the unpleasant, and daily-recurring necessity of the subsequent perjury? A poor young girl of the lower orders, cajoled, or ruined, more or less, is of course no great matter. The little baggage is turned out of doors — worse luck for her — or she gets a place, or she marries one of her own class, who does not care to remember bygones, — and there is an end of her. But if you marry her privately and irregularly yourself, and then throw her off, and then marry somebody else, you are brought to book in all sorts of unpleasant ways. I am writing of quite an old story, be pleased to remember. The first part of the history, I myself printed some twenty years ago; and if you fancy I allude to any more modern period, madam, you are entirely out in your conjecture.

It must have been a most unpleasant duty for a man of fashion, honour, and good family, to lie to a poor tipsy, disreputable bankrupt merchant’s daughter, such as Caroline Gann; but George Brand Firmin, Esq., M.D., had no other choice, and when he lied, — as in severe cases, when he administered calomel — he thought it best to give the drug freely. Thus he lied to Hunt, saying that Mrs. Brandon was long since dead in Canada; and he lied to Caroline, prescribing for her the very same pill, as it were, and saying that Hunt was long since dead in Canada too. And I can fancy few more painful and humiliating positions for a man of rank and fashion and reputation, than to have to demean himself so far as to tell lies to a little low-bred person, who gets her bread as nurse of the sick, and has not the proper use of her h’s .

“Oh, yes, Hunt!” Firmin had said to the Little Sister, in one of those sad little colloquies which sometimes took place between him and his victim, his wife of old days. “A wild, bad man, Hunt was — in days when I own I was little better! I have deeply repented since, Caroline; of nothing more than of my conduct to you; for you were worthy of a better fate, and you loved me truly — madly.”

“Yes,” says Caroline.

“I was wild, then! I was desperate! I had ruined my fortunes, estranged my father from me, was hiding from my creditors under an assumed name — that under which I saw you. Ah, why did I ever come to your house, my poor child? The mark of the demon was upon me. I did not dare to speak of marriage before my father. You have yours, and tend him with your ever constant goodness. Do you know that my father would not see me when he died? Oh, it’s a cruel thing to think of!” And the suffering creature slaps his tall forehead with his trembling hand; and some of his grief about his own father, I dare say, is sincere, for he feels the shame and remorse of being alienated from his own son.

As for the marriage — that it was a most wicked and unjustifiable deceit, he owned; but he was wild when it took place, wild with debt and with despair at his father’s estrangement from him — but the fact was, it was no marriage.

“I am glad of that!” sighed the poor Little Sister.

“Why?” asked the other eagerly. His love was dead, but his vanity was still hale and well. “Did you care for somebody else, Caroline? Did you forget your George, whom you used to — ”

“No!” said the little woman, bravely. “But I couldn’t live with a man who behaved to any woman so dishonest as you behaved to me. I liked you because I thought you was a gentleman. My poor painter was, whom you used to despise and trample to hearth — and my dear, dear Philip is, Mr. Firmin. But gentlemen tell the truth! Gentlemen don’t deceive poor innocent girls, and desert ’em without a penny!”

“Caroline! I was driven by my creditors. I— ”

“Never mind. It’s over now. I bear you no malice, Mr. Firmin, but I wouldn’t marry you, no, not to be doctor’s wife to the queen!”

This had been the Little Sister’s language when there was no thought of the existence of Hunt, the clergyman who had celebrated their marriage; and I don’t know whether Firmin was most piqued or pleased at the divorce which the little woman pronounced of her own decree. But when the ill-omened Hunt made his appearance, doubts and terrors filled the physician’s mind. Hunt was needy, greedy, treacherous, unscrupulous, desperate. He could hold this marriage over the doctor. He could threaten, extort, expose, perhaps invalidate Philip’s legitimacy. The first marriage, almost certainly, was null, but the scandal would be fatal to Firmin’s reputation and practice. And the quarrel with his son entailed consequences not pleasant to think of. You see George Firmin, Esq., M.D., was a man with a great development of the back head; when he willed a thing, he willed it so fiercely that he must have it, never mind the consequences. And so he had willed to make himself master of poor little Caroline: and so he had willed, as a young man, to have horses, splendid entertainments, roulette and écarté, and so forth; and the bill came at its natural season, and George Firmin, Esq., did not always like to pay. But for a grand, prosperous, highly-bred gentleman in the best society — with a polished forehead and manners, and universally looked up to — to have to tell lies to a poor little timid, un-complaining, sick-room nurse, it was humiliating, wasn’t it? And I can feel for Firmin.

To have to lie to Hunt was disgusting: but somehow not so exquisitely mean and degrading as to have to cheat a little trusting, humble, houseless creature, over the bloom of whose gentle young life his accursed foot had already trampled. But then this Hunt was such a cad and ruffian that there need be no scruple about humbugging him; and if Firmin had had any humour he might have had a grim sort of pleasure in leading the dirty clergyman a dance thoro’ bush thoro’ briar. So, perhaps (of course I have no means of ascertaining the fact), the doctor did not altogether dislike the duty which now devolved on him of hoodwinking his old acquaintance and accomplice. I don’t like to use such a vulgar phrase regarding a man in Doctor Firmin’s high social position, as to say of him and the gaol-chaplain that it was “thief catch thief;” but at any rate Hunt is such a low, graceless, friendless vagabond, that if he comes in for a few kicks, or is mystified, we need not be very sorry. When Mr. Thurtell is hung we don’t put on mourning. His is a painful position for the moment; but, after all, he has murdered Mr. William Weare.

Firmin was a bold and courageous man, hot in pursuit, fierce in desire, but cool in danger, and rapid in action. Some of his great successes as a physician arose from his daring and successful practice in sudden emergency. While Hunt was only lurching about the town an aimless miscreant, living from dirty hand to dirty mouth, and as long as he could get drink, cards, and shelter, tolerably content, or at least pretty easily appeased by a guinea-dose or two — Firmin could adopt the palliative system; soothe his patient with an occasional bounty; set him to sleep with a composing draught of claret or brandy; and let the day take care of itself. He might die; he might have a fancy to go abroad again; he might be transported for forgery or some other rascaldom, Dr. Firmin would console himself; and he trusted to the chapter of accidents to get rid of his friend. But Hunt, aware that the woman was alive whom he had actually, though unlawfully, married to Firmin, became an enemy whom it was necessary to subdue, to cajole, or to bribe, and the sooner the doctor put himself on his defence the better. What should the defence be? Perhaps the most effectual was a fierce attack on the enemy; perhaps it would be better to bribe him. The course to be taken would be best ascertained after a little previous reconnoitring.

“He will try and inflame Caroline,” the doctor thought, “by representing her wrongs and her rights to her. He will show her that, as my wife, she has a right to my name and a share of my income. A less mercenary woman never lived than this poor little creature. She disdains money, and, except for her father’s sake, would have taken none of mine. But to punish me for certainly rather shabby behaviour; to claim and take her own right and position in the world as an honest woman, may she not be induced to declare war against me, and stand by her marriage? After she left home, her two Irish half-sisters deserted her and spat upon her; and when she would have returned, the heartless women drove her from the door. Oh, the vixens! And now to drive by them in her carriage, to claim a maintenance from me, and to have a right to my honourable name, would she not have her dearest revenge over her sisters by so declaring her marriage?”

Firmin’s noble mind misgave him very considerably on this point. He knew women, and how those had treated their little sister. Was it in human nature not to be revenged? These thoughts rose straightway in Firmin’s mind, when he heard that the much dreaded meeting between Caroline and the chaplain had come to pass.

As he ate his dinner with his guest, his enemy, opposite to him, he was determining on his plan of action. The screen was up, and he was laying his guns behind it, so to speak. Of course he was as civil to Hunt as the tenant to his landlord when he comes with no rent. So the doctor laughed, joked, bragged, talked his best, and was thinking the while what was to be done against the danger.

He had a plan which might succeed. He must see Caroline immediately. He knew the weak point of her heart, and where she was most likely to be vulnerable. And he would act against her as barbarians of old acted against their enemies, when they brought the captive wives and children in front of the battle, and bade the foe strike through them. He knew how Caroline loved his boy. It was through that love he would work upon her. As he washes his pretty hands for dinner, and bathes his noble brow, he arranges his little plan. He orders himself to be sent for soon after the second bottle of claret — and it appears the doctor’s servants were accustomed to the delivery of these messages from their master to himself. The plan arranged, now let us take our dinner and our wine, and make ourselves comfortable until the moment of action. In his wild-oats days, when travelling abroad with wild and noble companions, Firmin had fought a duel or two, and was always remarkable for his gaiety of conversation and the fine appetite which he showed at breakfast before going on to the field. So, perhaps, Hunt, had he not been stupefied by previous drink, might have taken the alarm by remarking Firmin’s extra courtesy and gaiety, as they dined together. It was nunc vinum, cras ?quor.

When the second bottle of claret was engaged, Dr. Firmin starts. He has an advance of half-an-hour at least on his adversary, or on the man who may be his adversary. If the Little Sister is at home, he will see her — he will lay bare his candid heart to her, and make a clean breast of it. The Little Sister was at home.

“I want to speak to you very particularly about that case of poor Lady Humandhaw,” says he, dropping his voice.

“I will step out, my dear, and take a little fresh air,” says Captain Gann; meaning that he will be off to the “Admiral Byng;” and the two are together.

“I have had something on my conscience. I have deceived you, Caroline,” says the doctor, with the beautiful shining forehead and hat.

“Ah, Mr. Firmin,” says she, bending over her work; “you’ve used me to that.”

“A man whom you knew once, and who tempted me for his own selfish ends to do a very wrong thing by you — a man whom I thought dead is alive:— Tufton Hunt, who performed that — that illegal ceremony at Margate, of which so often and often on my knees I have repented, Caroline!”

The beautiful hands are clasped, the beautiful deep voice thrills lowly through the room; and if a tear or two can be squeezed out of the beautiful eyes, I daresay the doctor will not be sorry.

“He has been here to-day. Him and Mr. Philip was here and quarrelled. Philip has told you, I suppose, sir?”

“Before heaven, on the word of a gentleman, when I said he was dead, Caroline, I thought he was dead! Yes, I declare, at our college, Maxwell — Dr. Maxwell — who had been at Cambridge with us, told me that our old friend Hunt had died in Canada.” (This, my beloved friends and readers, may not have been the precise long bow which George Firmin, Esq., M.D., pulled; but that he twanged a famous lie out, whenever there was occasion for the weapon, I assure you is an undoubted fact.) “Yes, Dr. Maxwell told me our old friend was dead. Our old friend? My worst enemy and yours! But let that pass. It was he, Caroline, who led me into crimes which I have never ceased to deplore.”

“Ah, Mr. Firmin,” sighs the Little Sister, “since I’ve known you, you was big enough to take care of yourself in that way.”

“I have not come to excuse myself, Caroline,” says the deep sweet voice. “I have done you enough wrong, and I feel it here — at this heart. I have not come to speak about myself, but of some one I love the best of all the world — the only being I do love — some one you love, you good and generous soul — about Philip.”

“What is it about Philip?” asks Mrs. Brandon, very quickly.

“Do you want harm to happen to him?”

“Oh, my darling boy, no!” cries the Little Sister, clasping her little hands.

“Would you keep him from harm?”

“Ah, sir, you know I would. When he had the scarlet fever, didn’t I pour the drink down his poor throat, and nurse him, and tend him, as if, as if — as a mother would her own child?”

“You did, you did, you noble, noble woman; and heaven bless you for it! A father does. I am not all heartless, Caroline, as you deem me, perhaps.”

“I don’t think it’s much merit, your loving him,” says Caroline, resuming her sewing. And, perhaps, she thinks within herself, “What is he a coming to?” You see she was a shrewd little person, when her passions and partialities did not overcome her reason; and she had come to the conclusion that this elegant Dr. Firmin whom she had admired so once was a — not altogether veracious gentleman. In fact, I heard her myself say afterwards, “La! he used to talk so fine, and slap his hand on his heart, you know; but I usedn’t to believe him, no more than a man in a play.” “It’s not much merit your loving that boy,” says Caroline, then. “But what about him, sir?”

Then Firmin explained. This man Hunt was capable of any crime for money or revenge. Seeing Caroline was alive —

“I ‘spose you told him I was dead too, sir,” says she, looking up from the work.

“Spare me, spare me! Years ago, perhaps, when I had lost sight of you, I may, perhaps, have thought — ”

“And it’s not to you, George Brandon — it’s not to you,” cries Caroline, starting up, and speaking with her sweet, innocent, ringing voice; “it’s to kind, dear friends, — it’s to my good God that I owe my life, which you had flung it away. And I paid you back by guarding your boy’s dear life, I did, under — under Him who giveth and taketh. And bless His name!”

“You are a good woman, and I am a bad, sinful man, Caroline,” says the other. “You saved my Philip’s — our Philip’s life, at the risk of your own. Now I tell you that another immense danger menaces him, and may come upon him any day as long as yonder scoundrel is alive. Suppose his character is assailed; suppose, thinking you dead, I married another — ”

“Ah, George, you never thought me dead; though, perhaps, you wished it, sir. And many would have died,” added the poor Little Sister.

“Look, Caroline! If I was married to you, my wife — Philip’s mother — was not my wife, and he is her natural son. The property he inherits does not belong to him. The children of his grandfather’s other daughter claim it, and Philip is a beggar. Philip, bred as he has been — Philip, the heir to a mother’s large fortune.”

“And — and his father’s , too?” asks Caroline, anxiously.

“I daren’t tell you — though, no, by heavens! I can trust you with everything. My own great gains have been swallowed up in speculations which have been almost all fatal. There has been a fate hanging over me, Caroline — a righteous punishment for having deserted you. I sleep with a sword over my head, which may fall and destroy me. I walk with a volcano under my feet, which may burst any day and annihilate me. And people speak of the famous Dr. Firmin, the rich Dr. Firmin, the prosperous Dr. Firmin! I shall have a title soon, I believe. I am believed to be happy, and I am alone, and the wretchedest man alive.”

“Alone, are you?” said Caroline. “There was a woman once would have kept by you, only you — you flung her away. Look here, George Brandon. It’s over with us. Years and years ago it lies where a little cherub was buried. But I love my Philip; and I won’t hurt him, no, never, never, never.”

And as the doctor turned to go away, Caroline followed him wistfully into the hall, and it was there that Philip found them.

Caroline’s tender “never, never,” rang in Philip’s memory as he sat at Ridley’s party, amidst the artists and authors there assembled. Phil was thoughtful and silent. He did not laugh very loud. He did not praise or abuse anybody outrageously, as was the wont of that most emphatic young gentleman. He scarcely contradicted a single person; and perhaps, when Larkins said Scumble’s last picture was beautiful, or Bogle, the critic of the Connoisseur, praised Bowman’s last novel, contented himself with a scornful “Ho!” and a pull at his whiskers by way of protest and denial. Had he been in his usual fine spirits, and enjoying his ordinary flow of talk, he would have informed Larkins and the assembled company not only that Scumble was an impostor, but that he, Larkins, was an idiot for admiring him. He would have informed Bogle that he was infatuated about that jackass Bowman, that cockney, that wretched ignoramus, who didn’t know his own or any other language. He would have taken down one of Bowman’s stories from the shelf, and proved the folly, imbecility, and crass ignorance of that author. (Ridley has a simple little stock of novels and poems in an old cabinet in his studio, and reads them still with much artless wonder and respect.) Or, to be sure, Phil would have asserted propositions the exact contrary of those here maintained, and declared that Bowman was a genius, and Scumble a most accomplished artist. But then, you know, somebody else must have commenced by taking the other side. Certainly a more paradoxical, and provoking, and obstinate, and contradictory disputant than Mr. Phil, I never knew. I never met Dr. Johnson, who died before I came up to town; but I do believe Phil Firmin would have stood up and argued even with him.

At these Thursday divans the host provided the modest and kindly refreshment, and Betsy the maid, or Virgilio the model, travelled to and fro with glasses and water. Each guest brought his own smoke, and I promise you there were such liberal contributions of the article, that the studio was full of it; and new comers used to be saluted by a roar of laughter as you heard, rather than saw, them entering, and choking in the fog. It was, “Holloa, Prodgers! is that you, old boy?” and the beard of Prodgers (that famous sculptor) would presently loom through the cloud. It was, “Newcome, how goes?” and Mr. Clive Newcome (a mediocre artist I must own, but a famous good fellow, with an uncommonly pretty villa and pretty and rich wife at Wimbledon) would make his appearance, and be warmly greeted by our little host. It was, “Is that you, F. B.? would you like a link, old boy, to see you through the fog?” And the deep voice of Frederick Bayham, Esquire (the eminent critic on Art), would boom out of the tobaccomist, and would exclaim, “A link? I would like a drink.” Ah, ghosts of youth, again ye draw near! Old figures glimmer through the cloud. Old songs echo out of the distance. What were you saying anon about Dr. Johnson, boys? I am sure some of us must remember him. As for me, I am so old, that I might have been at Edial school — the other pupil along with little Davy Garrick and his brother.

We had a bachelor’s supper in the Temple so lately that I think we must pay but a very brief visit to a smoking party in Thornhaugh Street, or the ladies will say that we are too fond of bachelor habits, and keep our friends away from their charming and amiable society. A novel must not smell of cigars much, nor should its refined and genteel page be stained with too frequent brandy and water. Please to imagine, then, the prattle of the artists, authors, and amateurs assembled at Ridley’s divan. Fancy Jarman, the miniature painter, drinking more liquor than any man present, asking his neighbour (sub voce) why Ridley does not give his father (the old butler) five shillings to wait; suggesting that perhaps the old man is gone out, and is getting seven-and-sixpence elsewhere; praising Ridley’s picture aloud, and sneering at it in an undertone; and when a man of rank happens to enter the room, shambling up to him, and fawning on him, and cringing to him with fulsome praise and flattery. When the gentleman’s back is turned, Jarman can spit epigrams at it. I hope he will never forgive Ridley, and always continue to hate him; for hate him Jarman will, as long as he is prosperous, and curse him as long as the world esteems him. Look at Pym, the incumbent of Saint Bronze hard by, coming in to join the literary and artistic assembly, and choking in his white neckcloth to the diversion of all the company who can see him! Sixteen, eighteen, twenty men are assembled. Open the windows, or sure they will all be stifled with the smoke! Why, it fills the whole house so, that the Little Sister has to open her parlour window on the ground-floor, and gasp for fresh air.

Phil’s head and cigar are thrust out from a window above, and he lolls there, musing about his own affairs, as his smoke ascends to the skies. Young Mr. Philip Firmin is known to be wealthy, and his father gives very good parties in Old Parr Street, so Jarman sidles up to Phil and wants a little fresh air too. He enters into conversation by abusing Ridley’s picture that is on the easel.

“Everybody is praising it; what do you think of it, Mr. Firmin? Very queer drawing about those eyes, isn’t there?”

“Is there?” growls Phil.

“Very loud colour.”

“Oh!” says Phil.

“The composition is so clearly prigged from Raphael.”

“Indeed!”

“I beg your pardon. I don’t think you know who I am,” continues the other, with a simper.

“Yes, I do,” says Phil, glaring at him. “You’re a painter, and your name is Mr. Envy.”

“Sir!” shrieks the painter; but he is addressing himself to the tails of Phil’s coat, the superior half of Mr. Firmin’s body is stretching out of the window. Now, you may speak of a man behind his back, but not to him. So Mr. Jarman withdraws, and addresses himself, face to face, to somebody else in the company. I daresay he abuses that upstart, impudent, bumptious young doctor’s son. Have I not owned that Philip was often very rude? and to-night he is in a specially bad humour.

As he continues to stare into the street, who is that who has just reeled up to the railings below, and is talking in at Mrs. Brandon’s window? Whose black-guard voice and laugh are those which Phil recognizes with a shudder? It is the voice and laugh of our friend Mr. Hunt, whom Philip left, not very long since, near his father’s house in Old Parr Street; and both of those familiar sounds are more vinous, more odious, more impudent than they were even two hours ago.

“Holloa! I say!” he calls out with a laugh and a curse. “Pst! Mrs. Whatdyoucallem! Hang it! don’t shut the window. Let a fellow in!” and as he looks towards the upper window, where Philip’s head and bust appear dark before the light, Hunt cries out, “Holloa! what game’s up now, I wonder? Supper and ball. Shouldn’t be surprised.” And he hiccups a waltz tune, and clatters time to it with his dirty boots.

“Mrs. Whadyoucall! Mrs. B— !” the sot then recommences to shriek out. “Must see you — most particular business. Private and confidential. Hear of something to your advantage.” And rap, rap, rap, he is now thundering at the door. In the clatter of twenty voices few hear Hunt’s noise except Philip; or, if they do, only imagine that another of Ridley’s guests is arriving.

At the hall door there is talk and altercation, and the high shriek of a well-known odious voice. Philip moves quickly from his window, shoulders friend Jarman at the studio door, and hustling past him obtains, no doubt, more good wishes from that ingenious artist. Philip is so rude and overbearing that I really have a mind to depose him from his place of hero, only, you see, we are committed. His name is on the page overhead, and we can’t take it down and put up another. The Little Sister is standing in her hall by the just opened door, and remonstrating with Mr. Hunt, who appears to wish to force his way in.

“Pooh! shtuff, my dear! If he’s here I musht see him — particular business — get out of that!” and he reels forward against little Caroline’s shoulder.

“Get away, you brute, you!” cries the little lady. “Go home, Mr. Hunt; you are worse than you were this morning.” She is a resolute little woman, and puts out a firm little arm against this odious invader. She has seen patients in hospital raging in fever: she is not frightened by a tipsy man. “La! is it you, Mr. Philip? Whoever will take this horrid man? He ain’t fit to go upstairs among the gentlemen; indeed he ain’t.”

“You said Firmin was here — and it isn’t the father. It’s the cub! I want the doctor. Where’s the doctor?” hiccups the chaplain, lurching against the wall; and then he looks at Philip with bloodshot eyes, that twinkle hate. “Who wantsh you, I shlike to know? Had enough of you already to-day. Conceited brute. Don’t look at me in that sortaway! I ain’t afraid of you — ain’t afraid anybody. Time was when I was a young man fight you as soon as look at you. I say, Philip!”

“Go home, now. Do go home, there’s a good man,” says the landlady.

“I say! Look here — hic — hi! Philip! On your word as a gentleman, your father’s not here? He’s a sly old boots, Brummell Firmin is — Trinity man — I’m not a Trinity man — Corpus man. I say, Philip, give us your hand. Bear no malice. Look here — something very particular. After dinner — went into Air Street — you know — rouge gagne, et couleur — cleaned out, on the honour of a gentleman and Master of Arts of the university of Cambridge. So was your father — no, he went out in medicine. I say, Philip, hand us out five sovereigns, and let’s try the luck again! What, you won’t? It’s mean, I say. Don’t be mean.

“Oh, here’s five shillings! Go and have a cab. Fetch a cab for him, Virgilio, do!” cries the mistress of the house.

“That’s not enough, my dear!” cries the chaplain, advancing towards Mrs. Brandon, with such a leer and air, that Philip, half choked with passion, runs forward, grips Hunt by the collar, and crying out, “You filthy scoundrel; as this is not my house, I may kick you out of it!" — in another instant has run Hunt through the passage, hurled him down the steps, and sent him sprawling into the kennel.

“Row down below,” says Rosebury, placidly, looking from above. “Personal conflict. Intoxicated individual — in gutter. Our impetuous friend has floored him.”

Hunt, after a moment, sits up and glares at Philip. He is not hurt. Perhaps the shock has sobered him. He thinks, perhaps, Philip is going to strike again. “Hands off, BASTARD!” shrieks out the prostrate wretch.

“O Philip, Philip! He’s mad, he’s tipsy!” cries out the Little Sister, running into the street. She puts her arms round Philip. “Don’t mind him, dear — he’s mad! Policeman! The gentleman has had too much. Come in, Philip; come in!”

She took him into her little room. She was pleased with the gallantry of the boy. she Liked to see him just now, standing over her enemy, courageous, victorious, her champion. “La! how savage he did look; and how brave and strong you are! But the little wretch ain’t fit to stand before such as you!” And she passed her little hand down his arm, of which the muscles were all in a quiver from the recent skirmish.

“What did the scoundrel mean by calling me bastard?” said Philip, the wild blue eyes glaring round about with more than ordinary fierceness.

“Nonsense, dear! Who minds anything he says, that beast? His language is always horrid; he’s not a gentleman. He had had too much this morning when he was here. What matters what he says? He won’t know anything about it to-morrow. But it was kind of my Philip to rescue his poor little nurse, wasn’t it? Like a novel. Come in, and let me make you some tea. Don’t go to no more smoking: you have had enough. Come in and talk to me.”

And, as a mother, with sweet pious face, yearns to her little children from her seat, she fondles him, she watches him; she fills her teapot from her singing kettle. She talks — talks in her homely way, and on this subject and that. It is a wonder how she prattles on, who is generally rather silent. She won’t see Phil’s eyes, which are following her about very strangely and fiercely. And when again he mutters, “What did he mean by — ” “La, my dear, how cross you are!” she breaks out. “It’s always so; you won’t be happy without your cigar. Here’s a cheeroot, a beauty! Pa brought it home from the club. A China captain gave him some. You must light it at the little end. There!” And if I could draw the picture which my mind sees of her lighting Phil’s cheroot for him, and smiling the while, — of the little innocent Dalilah coaxing and wheedling this young Samson, I know it would be a pretty picture. I wish Ridley would sketch it for me.

1 yorum Devamini oku

No sleep tonight. With a warm, flying thoughts through the numerous hills and streams and hug you. Gently review. Deep gaze. Your smile is so bright, warm my cold. Who will Acacia tear into war, who will remember past deep. Shallow the fleeting time, love forever, only you. Tuijin elegance, I am still in the depths of red dust to watch you.

If I never met you, I don't know if I would miss a person, wait for a person, miss a person. If I never met you, I don't know there is such a feeling, just a gaze is forever. Do not need to be also the eternal. If I never met you, I don't know that one day will be deeply in love with a person, love at first sight moved, I always miss. The joy in the heart with each other. Silently is enduring as the universe at.

Life because of you, my heart is no longer lonely desolation. No matter where you are, I really feel you by my side, never go far. Acquainted as beautiful as a bright stars, each other's life. Until I met you, I will have a happy and happy. Waiting is the most warm concern. How many happy days in the fingertips. I use tender text record belongs to our beautiful, throbbing with life because of you, you are always in my heart.

Life because of you, I have a deep care. Have a heart, the world is small. Your feet are me direction. Love is the warmth of my waiting. Care is love silent thinking. Looking forward to returning is not love, is increasingly wide eventually not regret. A deep love. Concerned about a person is happy, be concerned about is the happiness, this life, we worried about each other with loving words to write the most touching the clear light of life under the warm.

Buddha said a shoulder rub the former five hundred times in this life only for earth, so all of the encounter is a gift. Acquaintance with you is my past lives of innumerable twists and turns expectations, because know, everything is beautiful. To understand the intersection and Lingxi heart. Is the situation with the situation which is communicated with the interleaving. Sometimes we need is a pair of eyes, a shoulder to lean on, one could read my heart. Dear, the depths of red dust the encounter with you, your words will make me feel sweet, a touch of a smile you is my heart warm, your happiness is the most really looking forward to my life.

Who wait through the numerous hills and streams, parked in your dreams. Who miss pour Xinyu, the heart of the most soft strings. I really want to be with you for life. Even if one day we had a fight, even if one day I am self-willed to say good-bye, even if one day I become old and ugly you still in my side never abandon accompany me to see the scenery. Really want to grow old with you together, every night you lit the lamp home light, with the tender feelings for you gently flick tired. Along the way and you cherish the beautiful flowers bloom, holding a warm hand all the way have an obsession you happiness.

The most beautiful words in the world that you are my own, my dear, if we can meet in the most beautiful years, are you and me without any deviation? Years later, you still remember our first beauty? This life, happy to have you, touch you, cherish you, happy with you. Not every pass will know, not every encounter will leave beautiful warm. Life if not done we will be happy together, in the heart of the interpretation of our enduring as the universe. May warm and moved in each other's hearts, may the joy and happiness in each other's heart forever, may we forever as first youth passes as a fleeting wave.

The world 's a special feeling, this hate is not the wind and the moon. This life but you drunk, accompany you never regret. Ren love jade, you are always my warm palm. The depths of red dust, let us warm, moved. With our heart forever, with the world, life, forever.

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0 yorum Devamini oku

"Well..." ZhuoMiao nodded, but in my heart think no one will ever know. 

After school, ZhuoMiao and fall purple in the school next to the canteen, eating snacks, chat. Many students are converging here chat play fart, talk about their ah, talk about his classmates and teachers in the gossip, is the home of the time before horseplay. 

"Hello..." XiaoFan chipper cry from far and near, riding a bicycle "call" to rush into the canteen the crowd at the door, looking at panic dodgy others, he laughed. 

"How can you be so happy? Don't go to studio?" Fall purple white his one eye, wilt at ground to ask. 

"It was a holiday, I can go home early! Ha ha......" XiaoFan appear very happy, "ah... how do you also go so early, today is not your class and class two football game?" 

"Preliminary, boring, our class must win! With you playing in the final class until we'll come on!" Fall purple waved her hand, and is not her brag, they class but major work class, learning sports are very cow, plus a very strict monitor, do to fight for the first, they all get used to it! 

"Yes, KouZi? Is he also have a holiday?" Fall purple seemingly inadvertently asked, but the eyes glanced ZhuoMiao. 

ZhuoMiao immediately bowed his head, he could not help secretly push down a purple one. 

"Oh, he is off, but our class girl looking for him, I went to see him with somebody else go to the playground, you all don't know, KouZi can welcome! Where are, in the studio. He is also the vice lazy way, attractive, really want to see him serious time any virtue, ha......" XiaoFan joking, I can see that, more or less with some envy. 

"Ah... that I ask you, KouZi have of the person you like?" Fall purple don't give up the pursuit, completely ignore ZhuoMiao cues. 

"Why? Don't tell me you like KouZi!" XiaoFan exaggeration to shout loudly. 

"Shut up!" Fall purple beat up him, "don't a surprised a at first, how wear, you want to let the whole world know! Not me, help others ask, hurry!" 

"It's malicious you!" XiaoFan touch oneself on pain of place, "KouZi ah, should be no, anyway have never seen he said. And, you know, KouZi so, who are nice, but also look not to come out to who is closer, so... I guess there is no! Ah... you first tell me, you who ask for?" 

"You don't, also are not going to say, you hear me? I'm curious!" Fall purple not satisfied with, but also can it. 

"You look at you...... is not the battle righteousness, ah... that's not KouZi!" As he spoke, XiaoFan suddenly by a riding a bicycle, the figure of the micro TuoDe angular figure, a see be Curtis first overgrown with weeds sui. 

KouZi always like slightly to smooth back, is obviously the youth young, daring age, seems to have a sense of vicissitudes of life. But the feeling with his face always hanging lazy manner, but did not appear abrupt, it almost became his registered trademark. 

"KouZi, KouZi!" 

KouZi heard the cry, just turn back: "don't go!" 

"Yes! Very not easy can early back..." XiaoFan smile happily, then a thief xi xi to top the top his shoulder, "ah... just WangLiJie call what were you up to? What's the good news?" 

KouZi smiled, kidding, said: "you little assume!" 

"What! I this is not concerned about you!" XiaoFan hey hey laughed, "I am afraid you are what spider jing hook the soul son." 

"Come on, little mouth so poison!" 

"Ah... KouZi, isn't it? So is welcome by girl?!" Fall purple is natural and graceful to ridicule. 

KouZi looked at her one eye, and focused on ZhuoMiao, then quickly moved: "you say what? I don't know." 

ZhuoMiao frowned, and said nothing. 

"Come on you!" The XiaoFan and fall the purple in chorus. 

"I go, I have an appointment with others, you slowly chat!" XiaoFan see eye list, and then JiHuoHuo across get on the car to walk, "see you tomorrow! Bye notification.thank!" 

"I also go! XiaoFan, you wait for me!" Fall purple looked at KouZi and meaningfully looked at ZhuoMiao, and then on the bike and ran off. 

0 yorum Devamini oku

"YanRe away, he's your brother?" WangPeng a pull over if from hand, glanced at Yin to lei, and a look her. 

"Yes!" YanRe from pop to him, if they will be small lei dozen become so, she must not let them better. 

"Take your hands off, don't touch my sister!" Yin to lei saw WangPeng holding elder sister, my heart is nasty, absolutely can't let them hurt my sister. 

WangPeng eyebrows a wrinkly, raising his hand will want to take his forehead. YanRe away from the eye disease very much quick moving, raising his hand is a block: "what makes you play my brother?" Although she know WangPeng is class small hun hun, all day with ShiBin fight truancy, but, she had never seen him make a determined effort. 

"Hum, you ask, your baby brother did some what?" WangPeng YanRe see from the eyes of contempt and anger??????? , the corners of the mouth smiled, estimated from don't know YanRe Yin to lei outside do, how to see others begin, she was so outraged, her brother is not with them? "My brother didn't tall, he can do what?" YanRe from zheng big eyes to ruthlessly stare at WangPeng. No matter how she would stand in the side of the younger brother. 

Small lei a listen to the elder sister so maintenance yourself, you heart ashamed, eyes slightly low. 

WangPengChao behind a shout: "thanked to come over." If the line of sight from him a look, just discover nearby??????? To stand a few people, there is a big like sitting on the head, feel a little familiar with. But black, she look very not clear, only to see a boy (xiao gao at the side coming slowly. 

WangPengJiang brother wang liang a hug: "this is your brother's masterpiece. If you stare at the little boy from the hand of the tie up gauze, layer thick gauze wrapped around his thin arms, contained the fixed plate, glistening a piece at night, very harsh. 

Her face was a white, dazed was on the spot, small lei made? Impossible, absolutely impossible. But in the eyes WangPeng trip, let she had to look back on to the little lei lei, she needs small mouth denied! Yin to lei a contact to sister asked eyes, guilty to low quickly eye. 

If the heart from a cold, small lei expression already??????? Completely given the answer. She is so understanding small lei, but she still hold a ray of hope tremblingly open: "small lei, are you playing?" Small lei slowly raised his head and looked at from a long time, if only gently nodded. He can't lie to my sister. 

If the hand from a tight,??????? Tight grip in the head, in the heart of the fire rises up bit by bit, but she now had to crush down??????? The fire. Even small lei again wrong, also get her to teach, but also wheel less than these people! Now the most important thing is to small lei safety back. 

If MinZui from tight, mind rotating around, slowly turn to look WangPeng, try to calmly asked: "do you want?" If WangPeng facing away from the question and stay for a while, YanRe leng from and no hair??????? ? When he saw her eyes shock and anger??????? , but she quickly control, at the moment of her face can not see a panic. 

"He did to my brother, I did to him." The clamp in the WangPeng smoke in ruthlessly throw on the ground, with the foot and trample, coldly say. This is called a tit for tat, come out to mix will have to prepare a bit. 

From YanRe again how to than pretending to be calm, his face was still a little changed once. No, she can't imagine small lei's hand was to interrupt, absolutely not! "WangPeng, I believe that my brother must be not sensible will accidentally wounded you brother. Your brother's medical bills, I all responsible for my brother, I apologize to you." YanRe voice from a fall, back to back, deeply WangPeng made a 90 degree deep bow. 

WangPeng and younger brother all leng. 

"Elder sister! Don't do it!" "Shut up." YanRe from still??????? The waist WangPeng face. No matter small lei why??????? Because others wounded, he has??????? Wrong prior, she can't and others argue, she just want to pour oil on troubled waters, hurry away small lei. 

"Which have such cheap things." "WangPeng, take her to come over." There was a sound behind call, YanRe from listening to out the sound is the DingAiJun. 

WangPeng back glanced at, if a from raising his hand than: "there are things to go there." "Elder sister, don't go." Yin to lei the thought of ShiBin, the in the mind have??????? Cold became a piece. The icy cold of the man shot so malicious, for elder sister? YanRe from a face of fearless toward small lei nodded and comfort him nothing, just turned and followed WangPeng brother go past. When she heard the voice of the DingAiJun, she knew, sitting on the stone head that talent is to decide the fate of the small lei tonight - he is ShiBin. 

In the dark ShiBin completely without a daily with only the point students appearance, with a lit cigarette, slender legs, a brace to sit comfortably on the stone,??????? The wind will his smoke blown guttering, forehead hair also began messy, but also just cover he those cold eyes, just at the moment YanRe from fundamental could not see his face. 

0 yorum Devamini oku

Mild principal adults look at laughs unbridled even some ugly girl, it is very hard not to be the eyes of the cold cold shock. He kindly asked her why she determined to resign. 

"Make the best use of everything, someone more than I have power." Li valve airily said, "and boring." 

"That...... do what just interesting?" In a rebellious period children, see what is not pleasing to the eye. 

Li valve handedness forefinger around each other a turn, her head had in high spirits, his mouth countered, "principal, this is the problem of self-confidence. The present stage, my own personality has not yet been fully to finalize the design, I don't want the rest of his life are not confident. I continue to spend as a class cadre, will only let me feel more and more frustrated, then forms the inferiority personality." 

Shen principal completely dumbfounded, this is the new moon students said? 

Li valve out of the office of the President, found PeiShangXuan stood at the end of the corridor, tiptoe in cement floor painting what. She hesitate for a moment, only a week to the monthly sit sit at the same table went over. 

In fact to PeiShangXuan height sitting in the third row of the classroom is absolutely waste, and his eyes vision is in 1.5. Li valve every time it with him to sit at the same table total unavoidable unspoken criticism he so don't love learning, sitting in the front of the classroom is simply to the teacher's insult. 

PeiShangXuan a heterogeneous, reading just so so, but which is able to win the favour of each teacher. Li valve defy spirit also useless, because this boy is a good looking that type. She more than once heard the girl in private discussions in the year which the most handsome boy, always heard someone PeiShangXuan nomination. Li valve to the intervals of three weeks to sit sit at the same table impression is not deep, but she listened to other people talk then see him, incredibly more looks is more pleasing to the eye up. 

"PeiShangXuan, what are you doing here?" Li valve go before him, slightly upturned face talk. 

"That... that, you resign if I?" The boy stammered, his eyes shining. 

Li valve YiZheng, can't help strange where he concluded, "hey, you like to own too great?" For him to resign? Really make me laugh! 

PeiShangXuan like breathe a sigh of relief, the mouth is still mumble in whispers, "when was the last time you catch me to do the helper, I got away, I think you are for this angry." 

He made no mention of Lebanon at valve forgot it. She said with a smile, clenched his fist beat him a punch in the 4) vicious headbutt. She is laughing and joking way: "I forgot, now think of come fill you up to play." 

"Out of date not fill." PeiShangXuan turned and ran down the stairs, blunt she is better than a "V" word. 

PeiShangXuan so of boy, destined to become a man of the school, but is refers to the study of outside. 

Students are mostly worship two kinds of people: the first kind of people is reading outstanding mind ridiculously good to let a person than the other one year I avoid together for the exam; The second class is used to fight a lot.the movement beer and skittles to master everything let a person can't wait to call each other brothers with each other with the "bad". In contrast, the second class because rebellious period young men and women to unconsciously to resist and make them more popular. 

PeiShangXuan just sit and senior senior had a fight. Almost every school are a bad student, like to bully blackmail drove to the lower grade lower classwoman. Limited to figure disadvantages, general students always darling was oppressed, but PeiShangXuan don't care, he and the other dish it out, although be flat to the glorious decorate for festive occasions but with the world famous. 

PeiShangXuan is a man of the year, to seriously study the good student despise an attend to, just think of what TaoHaiJuan rotation sit at the same table system, because every three weeks was forced to sit at the same table and bookworm li valve, he filled with not willing to. 

PeiShangXuan in Lebanon valve not what feeling, he and most boys like to see all the babes. Apart from the occasional borrow li valve homework copy will talk with her two sentences, basically a week's dialog control in thirty words or so. Li valve to his cold, he'd also care nothing for, who all know that she is listening class nonsense all don't say of good students. 

And li valve sit at the same table days PeiShangXuan is usually the most depressed time, he always think li valve is to let a person hard to close kook, although look at her and the other girls get along is also very normal, until one time after school he forgot to need parents to sign papers away. PeiShangXuan retrace the classroom, he saw li valve in the cold and cheerless classroom tears. 

PeiShangXuan stands at the door listen li valve depressive &radio, don't know how to is good. 

 "http://www.jewelrystore-online.net" mce_href="http://www.jewelrystore-online.net"jewelry shop

Li valve back schoolbag go out going to lock the door, but it was against the wall standing PeiShangXuan startled. She quietly wiped her cheeks, erase the last traces of. 

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