Tobit Transplanted

Tobit Transplanted

Stella Benson

Language: English

Pages: 249

ISBN: B0013I3TII

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Benson's humour and prose craft is here in spades, with the addition of the historical interest of the subject matter and location. The story of Tobit provides the framework for the story, with White Russian exiles taking the place of the exiled Jews.

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cravings. He sought everything that was sure to be there?everything that could be depended on not to be suddenly strange and humiliating. ?Go to your father, then,? said Pavel curtly. ?I can tell you, though, when I was your age. …? And for an hour and a half he did tell him. The ridge climbed higher, and though the day grew brighter, the valleys, being deeply sunken, were filled with mist?slung with a canopy of dark steel-coloured mist, which presently the sun would first polish to bright

in the open green space behind our house?after dark, that thieves might not know. Because he had it fixed in his mind that the Chinese would again try to open the grave. So all night long he lay on a blanket outside, against the wall of our yard. Three times?four times?five times?I went out and said, ?Come in, stupid man, you will have rheumatism again; to-morrow you will not have power to bend,? but he is stubborn like a goat, and early in the morning, as the sun rose up, I heard him scream?high

remember. The heart and the liver of a salmon?yes? But the gall?it is not a right smell, yes?no? Shall I not then throw away this gall? Yist to no use.? ?The gall is extremely useful too,? said Wilfred. ?It cures blindness.? He was raking away in his memories of the servants in his father?s compound at Canton. ?Blindness!? cried Seryozha. ?My papa is blind.? ?Some blindness,? said Wilfred cautiously, ?is incurable. Other forms can be cured by surgical operations. But a Chinese doctor once told

frock with red embroidery and no hat or veil to hide her pretty yellow hair. She looked stunning?she?d rouged up her lips and blacked her eyes a little. She?d a way of opening her eyes suddenly very wide as she looked at you. … ?Let your gunners and sentries know I shall be coming back in four days, Stepan Stepanovitch,? she said. So she went. She went in the evening, I suppose so that she could pretend to Ivanov?s men that she?d slipped away unseen down the pass.? ?Well, did she come back??

off in the dawn of the next day. I watched them go?little lolloping specks in loose formation. I knew why, of course?they were nothing but raw louts; only Ivanov held them together; they were lost without him. Some of our miners went out along the mountains and sniped them when they came to the narrow head of the valley. They even got back some of my horses.? Varvara watched her husband. Only she knew how little of his story was true?and she did not mind. On the contrary, the story seemed to her

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