The British Female Detective Written by Women, – | SpringerLink
It all happened so fast. All Daddy could do was shake his head. But I paid no heed, having fallen instantly in love for the first time that day. And what I have found is, like, a connection. I have never felt a connection before. Now I have found it with Jacques-Henri. He saved my life. It surprised him a lot. He just did not associate Lucille with love. Love was about wild excitations, whereas Lucille always had seemed more the homemaker.
Lucille always had been proud of her home, and pleased to be living in Silverwood City, a regular kind of place in the greatest country on earth. Lucille had never seemed the roving type. On the other hand, Lucille was a French name. It was possible that she had heard the call from far away.
Guardian of the Silverwood
Something had spoken to her in her mind. It must have been too powerful for Lucille and, boy, was she strong to resist its temptation. Bud had never been able to tempt Lucille, not once.
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Where he, the little guy from no place, had failed, something French had drawn her in. Or maybe not. Me, I just love Paris. I was the belle of my home town. I had the prettiest curls and the daintiest smiles. But Lucille was real different. Yeah, there was love in America once. You can make things happen.
Like this. It is you, is it not? I just thought that something a little French maybe. Now it has. And the little guy from Silverwood City wakes up in Paris. Something French.
Just what I wanted. Wait till I tell them back home. No, I go home and say nothing. Whatever will they say in Silverwood City? You have fulfilled your destiny. For some it is to fight for France in the Legion. For others it is to play the accordion. And for some it is to dance the can-can. You, if I may say, madame, seem the heroic type. Perhaps only the Legion can satisfy the innermost yearnings of your beating heart. He explained that such moments as this always made him a little sentimental.
Something she had never done before. And at once there was an explosion that made everybody gasp. The pelican, to general amazement, was no more. An enormous cloud of smoke took his place. Is it possible? Can this really be you?
No matter, for we are together again, and now we will never be apart. Everyone applauded. It seemed to approach closer and closer, like a great beast that might leap up at any moment. There was no escaping the fact that this was the best movie a guy could ever see. Flipper failed to even mention Ty during his soliloquy. I only got to see the stick figure when the large, puffy dude retreated so he could repeat his story to the inhabitants of the next room.
Ty took a few steps towards us but his spindly legs soon buckled, and he tumbled into me. His head landed in my lap while I sat on my bed. I vowed to stay away from that clowning kid. My goal that first day, and for most of the next four years, was to meet and be with as many women as I could. People love a certain kind of madness. At least until the joker crosses the line. Freshman year, Ty directed a lot of his pranks towards our fellow dorm residents who went to bed early, which, for us, was any time before midnight.
Just enough to wake the kid from his sleep, but not enough to cause him to answer. Others slammed it shut without a word. Sometimes Ty played rough.
- The Oxford Book of Ballads.
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- The Thirty-Nine Steps [with Biographical Introduction].
Ty combatted the angry stare or cursing of the guy with wet feet and soaked carpet with a lilting tone and minimalist message. He loved tripping his way through a classroom, knocking into people and through desks, especially on the first day of a semester. Most of all he loved running into a door, window, or other object at high speed. They only observed the crash and his collapsing to the ground.
Then when they stood over him and asked if he were okay, Ty would jump to his feet, announce he was fine, and flee. I understood Ty acted as he did to get approval in the form of laughter, but he also did it for us, his best friends. If any of us were ever down due to a bad grade, news from home, or whatever, there was Ty crashing into things, playing the fool for our benefit.
Ty never cared about the personal consequences to him. He always cared about the message above everything else. That never changed. We attended a small, private university in the northeast. The sort of place that used to appear idyllic whenever captured on a glossy brochure.
I think the attraction was subconscious as much as anything. Adams University offered an escape from the rest of the world. Located in a quiet, college town, Adams appeared removed from the problems of city life and the modern world as it were.
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For our parents, this may have created images of a safe place for study. High schoolers may have envisioned a teenage playground. A Shangri-la where college rules trumped those of the rest of society. Or maybe I was alone in my delusions. I imagined a place where people lived and let live and experimentation was part of the expectation.
As a freshman at Adams, I had no thoughts of law school. I wanted to indulge without consequences, without regulations, and befriended those with a similar attitude. Finals start Monday.
I still had a way to go to perfect the art of persuasion. Thin walls. I presumed he had a room on another floor in mind, but he placed the table down inside the otherwise empty elevator and held it open. Apparently, someone on another floor wanted it.