The Invader. Margaret L. Woods

The Invader - Margaret L. Woods


Скачать книгу
tion>

       Margaret L. Woods

      The Invader

      A Novel

      Published by Good Press, 2020

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066103507

       TO

       Hilda Greaves

       THE INVADER

       CHAPTER I

       CHAPTER II

       CHAPTER III

       CHAPTER IV

       CHAPTER V

       CHAPTER VI

       CHAPTER VII

       CHAPTER VIII

       CHAPTER IX

       CHAPTER X

       CHAPTER XI

       CHAPTER XII

       CHAPTER XIII

       CHAPTER XIV

       CHAPTER XV

       CHAPTER XVI

       CHAPTER XVII

       CHAPTER XVIII

       CHAPTER XIX

       CHAPTER XX

       CHAPTER XXI

       CHAPTER XXII

       CHAPTER XXIII

       CHAPTER XXIV

       CHAPTER XXV

       CHAPTER XXVI

       CHAPTER XXVII

       CHAPTER XXVIII

       CHAPTER XXIX

       CHAPTER XXX

       CHAPTER XXXI

       CHAPTER XXXII

       THE END

      "

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      AND THE DUMB COMPANIONS OF TAN-YR-ALLT

       THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY THEIR

       GRATEFUL AND AFFECTIONATE

       FRIEND

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      Dinner was over and the ladies had just risen, when the Professor had begged to introduce them to the new-comer on his walls. The Invader, it might almost have been called, this full-length, life-size portrait, which, in the illumination of a lamp turned full upon it, seemed to take possession of the small room, to dominate at the end of the polished-oak table, where the light of shaded candles fell on old blue plates, old Venetian glass, a bit of old Italian brocade, and chrysanthemums in a china bowl coveted by collectors. Every detail spoke of the connoisseurship, the refined and personal taste characteristic of Oxford in the eighties. The authority on art put up his eye-glasses and fingered his tiny forked beard uneasily.

      "There's no doubt it's a good thing, Fletcher," he said, presently—"really quite good. But it's too like Romney to be Raeburn, and too like Raeburn to be Romney. You ought to be able to find out the painter, if, as you say, it's a portrait of your own great-grandmother—"

      "He did say so!" broke in Sanderson, exultantly. "He said it was an ancestress. Fletcher, you're a vulgar fraud. You've got no ancestress. You bought her. There's a sale-ticket still on the frame under the projection at the right-hand lower corner. I saw it."

      Sanderson was a small man and walked about perpetually, except when taking food: sometimes then. He was a licensed insulter


Скачать книгу