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The Survivor by E. Phillips Oppenheim
A little party of men and women on bicycles were pushing their machines up the steep ascent which formed the one street of Feldwick village. It was a Sunday morning, and the place was curiously empty. Their little scraps of gay conversation and laughter-they were men and women of the smart world-seemed to strike almost a pagan note in a deep Sabbatical stillness. They passed the wide open doors of a red brick chapel, and several of the worshippers within turned their heads.
As the last two of the party went by, the wheezings of a harmonium ceased, and a man's voice came travelling out to them. The lady rested her hand upon her host's arm. "Listen," she whispered.
Her host, Lord of the Manor, Lord Lieutenant of the County, and tenth Earl of Cumberland, paused readily enough and leaned his machine against a kerbstone. Bicycling was by no means a favourite pursuit of his, and the morning for the time of year was warm.
"Dear lady," he murmured, "shall we go a little nearer and listen to the words of grace? Anything for a short rest."
She leaned her own bicycle against the wall. From where she was she could catch a sideway glimpse of a tall, slight figure standing up before the handful of people.
"I should like to go inside," she said, indifferently. "Would they think it an intrusion?"
"Certainly not," he answered, with visions of a chair before him. "As a matter of fact, I have a special invitation to become a member of that flock-temporarily, at any rate."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"The land here" he answered, "is not entailed, and they are very anxious to buy this little bit and own their chapel. I had a letter from a worthy farmer and elder, Gideon Strong, on the matter yesterday. He wound up by expressing a wish that I might join them in their service one morning. This is their service, and here we are. Come!"
They crossed the street, and, to the obvious amazement of the little congregation, stood in the doorway. A gaunt shepherd, with weather-marked face and knotted fingers, handed them clumsily a couple of chairs. Some of the small farmers rose and made a clumsy obeisance to their temporal lord. Gideon Strong, six feet four, with great unbent shoulders, and face as hard and rugged as iron, frowned them down, and showed no signs of noticing his presence. Elsewhere he would have been one of the first, proud man though he was, to stand bareheaded before the owner of his farm and half a county, but in the house of God, humble little building though it was, he reckoned all men equal.
Praying silently before them, on the eve of his first sermon, a young man was kneeling. He had seen nothing of these newcomers, but of a sudden as he knelt there, his thoughts and sensations in strange confusion, himself half in revolt against what lay before him, there floated up the little aisle an exquisite perfume of crushed violets, and he heard the soft rustling of a gown which was surely worn by none of those who were gathered together to listen to him. He opened his eyes involuntarily, and met the steady gaze of the lady whose whim it had been to enter the place.
He had never seen her before, nor any one like her. Yet he felt that, in her presence, the task which lay before him had become immeasurably more difficult. She was a type to him of all those things, the memory of which he had been strenuously trying to put away from him, the beautiful, the worldly, the joyous. As he rose slowly to his feet, he looked half despairingly around. It was a stern religion which they loved, this handful of weatherbeaten farmers and their underlings. Their womenkind were made as unlovely as possible, with flat hair, sombre and ill-made clothes. Their surroundings were whitewashed and text-hung walls, and in their hearts was the love for narrow ways. He gave out his text slowly and with heavy heart. Then he paused, and, glancing once more round the little building, met again the soft, languid fire of those full dark eyes. This time he did not look away. He saw a faint interest, a slight pity, a background of nonchalance. His cheeks flushed, and the fire of revolt leaped through his veins. He shut up the Bible and abandoned his carefully prepared discourse, in which was a mention of hellfire and many gloomy warnings, which would have brought joy to the heart of Gideon Strong, and to each of which he would slowly and approvingly have nodded his head. He delivered instead, with many pauses, but in picturesque and even vivid language, a long and close account of the miracle with which his text was concerned. In the midst of it there came from outside the tinkling of many bicycle bells-the rest of the party had returned in search of their host and his companion. The Earl looked up with alacrity. He was nicely rested now, and wanted a cigarette.
"Shall we go?" he whispered.
She nodded and rose. At the door she turned for a moment and looked backwards. The preacher was in the midst of an elaborate and painstaking sifting of evidence as to the season of the year during which this particular miracle might be supposed to have taken place. Again their eyes met for a moment, and she went out into the sunlight with a faint smile upon her lips, for she was a woman who loved to feel herself an influence, and she was swift to understand. To her it was an episode of the morning's ride, almost forgotten at dinner-time. To him it marked the boundary line between the old things and the new.
A detective and very mysterious story. Mr. Sabin is called out of blissful retirement to search for his missing wife. He believes Lucille to be kidnapped by members of a secret society of aristocrats. It is interesting to watch Mr. Sabin control himself and walk with such dignity and aristocratic bearing and tact, even as he plots to save his own life and reunite with his beloved Lucille. "The Yellow Crayon" presents a fascinating picture of the political mindset of the day to go along with the twists and turns of the story. Readers of Mr. Oppenheim's novels may always count on a story of absorbing interest, turning on a complicated plot, worked out with dexterous craftsmanship.
E. Phillips Oppenheim was a popular 20th century writer best known for penning suspenseful thriller novels like The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown. Many of his more than 100 novels are still read today.
Alfred Burton, a smooth-talking salesman, is having a perfectly ordinary day on the job when he stumbles across a strange plant with green leaves and a cluster of queer little brown beans hanging down from them in an old house. The virtue of the beans is that he who eats one shall see nothing, think nothing, say nothing but the truth. Alfred Burton has a well-meaning, rather ordinary wife who becomes unendurable to him, and he falls in love with a charming girl who would have no appeal for the man he formerly was. What Alfred really doesn't realize is that the fruit of the plant, when eaten, will change not merely the entire course of his life, but in fact his very self.
A novel of crime and conscience by Edward Phillips Oppenheim (1866-1946), the self-styled „prince of storytellers." „The Profiteers" was written about the stock market post-World War I and pre-1929 crash. The tale of the Bechtel family dynasty is a classic American business story. It begins with Warren A. Bechtel, who led a consortium that constructed the Hoover Dam. From that auspicious start, the family and its eponymous company would go on to „build the world," from the construction of airports in Hong Kong and Doha, to pipelines and tunnels in Alaska and Europe, to mining and energy operations around the globe. Like all stories of empire building, the rise of Bechtel presents a complex and riveting narrative. In The Profiteers, Sally Denton, exposes Bechtel's secret world and one of the biggest business and political stories of our time.
E. Phillips Oppenheim was a popular 20th century writer best known for penning suspenseful thriller novels like The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown. Many of his more than 100 novels are still read today, including The Lighted Way, one of the stories that Oppenheim bragged about in calling himself "prince of storytellers."
As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?"
Sheila had her back against the wall when her family tried to force her to marry an awful old man. In a fit of rage, she hired a gigolo to act as her husband. She thought the gigolo needed money and did this for a living. Little did she know that he was nothing like that. One day, he pulled off his mask and revealed himself to be the world's top magnate. This marked the beginning of their love. He showered her with everything she could ever want. They were happy. However, unexpected circumstances soon posed a threat to their love. Would Sheila and her husband make it through the storm? Find out!
[Cute Baby + Secret Identity + Powerful hero and heroine!] Caroline loved Damian with all her heart for five whole years. She devoted herself to him and lived humbly for his sake. However, when the couple faced a crisis, she hoped that the news of her pregnancy would fix their marriage, but what she got in return was just a divorce agreement. And to make things worse, while she was about to give birth, she had fallen into someone's trap and her life was in danger. After managing to survive such a harrowing experience, she was determined to cut all ties with the man. Five years later, she re-emerged with her head held high, being the CEO of a famous company. Those who used to bully her now got a taste of their own medicine. And the truth about the past gradually surfaced... Dazzled by Caroline's newfound confidence, her ex-husband wanted to get back together with her, but she just turned a blind eye to his advances. Damian pleaded desperately, "Honey, our baby needs both his parents. Please remarry me!"
After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
After three loveless years, Neil's betrayal deeply wounded Katelyn. She wasted no time in getting rid of that scoundrel! After the divorce, she devoted herself to career pursuits. Rising to prominence as a top designer, skilled doctor, and brilliant hacker, she became a revered icon. Neil, realizing his grave mistake, tried in vain to win her back, only to witness her magnificent wedding to another. As their vows were broadcast on the world's largest billboard, Vincent slid a ring onto Katelyn's finger and declared, "Katelyn is now my wife, a priceless treasure. Let all who covet her beware!"