The Convert

Fiction & Literature, Classics
Cover of the book The Convert by Elizabeth Robins, Release Date: November 27, 2011
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Author: Elizabeth Robins ISBN: 9782819914556
Publisher: Release Date: November 27, 2011 Publication: November 27, 2011
Imprint: pubOne.info Language: English
Author: Elizabeth Robins
ISBN: 9782819914556
Publisher: Release Date: November 27, 2011
Publication: November 27, 2011
Imprint: pubOne.info
Language: English
pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. The tall young lady who arrived fifteen minutes before the Freddy Tunbridges' dinner-hour, was not taken into the great empty drawing-room, but, as though she were not to be of the party expected that night, straight upstairs she went behind the footman, and then up more stairs behind a maid. The smart, white-capped domestic paused, and her floating muslin streamers cut short their aërial gyrations subsiding against her straight black back as she knocked at the night-nursery door. It was opened by a middle-aged head nurse of impressive demeanour. She stood there an instant eyeing the intruder with the kind of overbearing hauteur that in these days does duty as the peculiar hall-mark of the upper servant, being seldom encountered in England among even the older generation of the so-called governing class. 'It's too late to see the baby, miss. He's asleep.' 'Yes, I know; but the others are expecting me, aren't they?'
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. The tall young lady who arrived fifteen minutes before the Freddy Tunbridges' dinner-hour, was not taken into the great empty drawing-room, but, as though she were not to be of the party expected that night, straight upstairs she went behind the footman, and then up more stairs behind a maid. The smart, white-capped domestic paused, and her floating muslin streamers cut short their aërial gyrations subsiding against her straight black back as she knocked at the night-nursery door. It was opened by a middle-aged head nurse of impressive demeanour. She stood there an instant eyeing the intruder with the kind of overbearing hauteur that in these days does duty as the peculiar hall-mark of the upper servant, being seldom encountered in England among even the older generation of the so-called governing class. 'It's too late to see the baby, miss. He's asleep.' 'Yes, I know; but the others are expecting me, aren't they?'

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