The Moonstone

by Wilkie Collins

MY OWN NAME.

And, on the unanswerable evidence of the paint-stain, I had discovered Myself as the Thief.

“There’s a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. We are all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into the world. And we are all of us right.”

“You needn’t tell me what has happened,” he said. “Betteredge has played his last card: he has made another prophetic discovery in Robinson Crusoe. Have you humoured his favourite delusion?

The Guardian; The Tatler; Richardson’s Pamela; Mackenzie’s Man of Feeling; Roscoe’s Lorenzo De Medici; and Robertson’s Charles the Fifth—all

“Mr. Bruff, you have no more imagination than a cow!” “A cow is a very useful animal, Mr. Blake,”

GODFREY ABLEWHITE!

with a villa in the suburbs which was not taken in his own name, and with a lady in the villa, who was not taken in his own name, either.

Scandalous

“I am indebted to Mr. Franklin Blake,” he said, “for having seen some happy days. Don’t distress him, Mr. Candy—don’t distress him.”

nooooo