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The Beautiful Miss Brooke   By: (1869-1938)

The Beautiful Miss Brooke by Louis Zangwill

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E text prepared by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)

Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See http://www.archive.org/details/beautifulmissbro00zangiala

[Illustration: Cover]

THE BEAUTIFUL MISS BROOKE

SOME PRESS OPINIONS

Of "Z. Z.'s" Previous Work.

Daily Chronicle (London). In all modern fiction there is no novel which contains a more able and finished analysis of character. It is a serious contribution to literature.

Echo (London). His work reveals a grand dramatic instinct There are indeed possibilities of fine work in "Z. Z.," and we may anticipate valuable studies of life in the immediate future. Mr. Louis Zangwill should cut a pretty figure in latter day fiction.

Academy (London). A few masterful novelists like "Z. Z." have it in their power to attain to a complete achievement.

Daily Telegraph (London). One of the ablest works of recent fiction.

Illustrated London News. One of the cleverest novels of the day.

Graphic (London). The new novel by "Z. Z." is a tragedy of which the power can not possibly be denied. Never for one moment does the author lose his grip.

Weekly Sun (London). He is one of the forces to be counted with in contemporary literature. Great qualities have gone to the making of his book, and with these qualities Mr. Louis Zangwill is bound to travel far.

THE BEAUTIFUL MISS BROOKE

[Illustration: Decoration]

By "Z. Z." Author of A Drama in Dutch, The World and a Man, Etc.

New York D. Appleton and Company 1897

Copyright, 1897, D. Appleton and Company.

THE BEAUTIFUL MISS BROOKE.

CHAPTER I.

THE opening bars of a waltz sounded through the house above the irregular murmur of conversation, bearing their promise and summons along festal corridors and into garlanded nooks and alcoves. Paul Middleton drew a breath of relief as the girl to whom he had been talking was carried off to dance, for she had bored him intolerably. The refreshment room, crowded a moment ago, was thinning down, and, glad of the respite, he took another sandwich and slowly sipped the remainder of his coffee. His humour was of the worst. If his hostess had not been his mother's oldest friend, he would never have allowed himself to be persuaded to accept her invitation after he had once decided to decline it. Why had his mother so persisted, when she knew very well he was looking forward to playing in an important chess match? Certainly the evening so far had not compensated him for the pleasure he had thus missed.

He had been chafing the whole time, and intermittently he had played with the idea of slipping out and taking a hansom down to the chess club. But he had ticked off five dances on Celia's programme Celia was of course Celia and he was to take her to supper. Moreover, on his arrival at the small and early, Mrs. Saxon had led him round he feeling that his amiable expression made him a hypocrite and, mechanically repeating his request for the pleasure of a dance, he had scrawled his name on several programmes with scarcely a glance at their owners. It was, however, more particularly his engagements with Celia, and one or two other girls he knew well, that had made him stay on. Once more he glanced at his watch. It was getting well on towards midnight now, and the issue of the chess match must already have been decided. After some speculation as to the winning side, he resigned himself to finishing the evening where he was... Continue reading book >>




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