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This is a reproduction of a book published before 1923.This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process.We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ... Read more

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Reconstructs a brief but cogent synthesis of Conrad the man-of-action and Conrad the man-of-letters. ... Read more

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This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. This IS NOT an OCR'd book with strange characters, introduced typographical errors, and jumbled words.This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book. ... Read more

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Publisher: [New York] Grosset ... Read more

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This novel is an unfinished addition to the "Herries" series. Hugh Walpole had become attached to the characters of the original four "Herries Chronicles" and revisited them in this book and its predecessor, "The Bright Pavilions". ... Read more

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1927. Walpole wrote horror novels that tended more towards the psychological rather than supernatural, with a brooding underlying mysticism. Wintersmoon begins: I am asking you again to marry me as I did a fortnight ago. Janet Grandison turned towards him and said: Yes. You've been very honest. I believe, he said, honesty to be the only thing for us. From the beginning I have always known that you valued that-honesty I mean-more perhaps than anything. I value it too. She smiled. I believe you do. But we all do. We make a fetish of it. It seems to me sometimes almost the only good thing that has survived the war. Well, she went on, I have had the fortnight I begged for. A fortnight ago you asked me to marry you. You said you weren't in love with me but that you liked and respected me, that you thought we would get on well together. You want me to be the mother of your children. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing. ... Read more

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This is an OCR edition without illustrations or index. It may have numerous typos or missing text. However, purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original rare book from GeneralBooksClub.com. You can also preview excerpts from the book there. Purchasers are also entitled to a free trial membership in the General Books Club where they can select from more than a million books without charge. Original Published by: Grosset & Dunlap in 1914 in 528 pages; Subjects: Fiction / General; Fiction / Historical; Fiction / Literary; Fiction / Romance / General; Fiction / Romance / Contemporary; Fiction / Romance / Historical; ... Read more

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This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone! ... Read more

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1923. Walpole wrote horror novels that tended more towards the psychological rather than supernatural, with a brooding underlying mysticism. The book begins: There was a certain window between the kitchen and the pantry that was Hamlet's favorite. Thirty years ago-these chronicles are of the year 1894-the basements of houses in provincial English towns, even of large houses owned by rich people, were dark, chill, odorful caverns hissing with ill-burning gas and smelling of ill-cooked cabbage. The basement of the Coles' house in Polchester was as bad as any other, but this little window between the kitchen and the pantry was higher in the wall than the other basement windows, almost on a level with the iron railings beyond it, and offering a view down over Orange Street and, obliquely, sharp to the right and past the Polchester High School, a glimpse of the Cathedral towers themselves. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing. ... Read more