Lilith. George MacDonald

Lilith - George MacDonald


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       George MacDonald

      Lilith

      A Romance

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664175427

       CHAPTER I. THE LIBRARY

       CHAPTER II. THE MIRROR

       CHAPTER III. THE RAVEN

       CHAPTER IV. SOMEWHERE OR NOWHERE?

       CHAPTER V. THE OLD CHURCH

       CHAPTER VI. THE SEXTON’S COTTAGE

       CHAPTER VII. THE CEMETERY

       CHAPTER VIII. MY FATHER’S MANUSCRIPT

       CHAPTER IX. I REPENT

       CHAPTER X. THE BAD BURROW

       CHAPTER XI. THE EVIL WOOD

       CHAPTER XII. FRIENDS AND FOES

       CHAPTER XIII. THE LITTLE ONES

       CHAPTER XIV. A CRISIS

       CHAPTER XV. A STRANGE HOSTESS

       CHAPTER XVI. A GRUESOME DANCE

       CHAPTER XVII. A GROTESQUE TRAGEDY

       CHAPTER XVIII. DEAD OR ALIVE?

       CHAPTER XIX. THE WHITE LEECH

       CHAPTER XX. GONE!—BUT HOW?

       CHAPTER XXI. THE FUGITIVE MOTHER

       CHAPTER XXII. BULIKA

       CHAPTER XXIII. A WOMAN OF BULIKA

       CHAPTER XXIV. THE WHITE LEOPARDESS

       CHAPTER XXV. THE PRINCESS

       CHAPTER XXVI. A BATTLE ROYAL

       CHAPTER XXVII. THE SILENT FOUNTAIN

       CHAPTER XXVIII. I AM SILENCED

       CHAPTER XXIX. THE PERSIAN CAT

       CHAPTER XXX. ADAM EXPLAINS

       CHAPTER XXXI. THE SEXTON’S OLD HORSE

       CHAPTER XXXII. THE LOVERS AND THE BAGS

       CHAPTER XXXIII. LONA’S NARRATIVE

       CHAPTER XXXIV. PREPARATION

       Chapter XXXV. THE LITTLE ONES IN BULIKA

       CHAPTER XXXVI. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER

       CHAPTER XXXVII. THE SHADOW

       CHAPTER XXXVIII. TO THE HOUSE OF BITTERNESS

       CHAPTER XXXIX. THAT NIGHT

       CHAPTER XL. THE HOUSE OF DEATH

       CHAPTER XLI. I AM SENT

       Then I turned and said to Eve,

       CHAPTER XLII. I SLEEP THE SLEEP

       CHAPTER XLIII. THE DREAMS THAT CAME

       CHAPTER XLIV. THE WAKING

       CHAPTER XLV. THE JOURNEY HOME

       CHAPTER XLVI. THE CITY

       CHAPTER XLVII. THE “ENDLESS ENDING”

      I took a walk on Spaulding’s Farm the other afternoon. I saw the setting sun lighting up the opposite side of a stately pine wood. Its golden rays straggled into the aisles of the wood as into some noble hall. I was impressed as if some ancient and altogether admirable and shining family had settled there in that part of the land called Concord, unknown to me—to whom the sun was servant—who had not gone into society in the village—who had not been called on. I saw their


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