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I stumbled against a great, quiet farm horse. A continuous scuffling went on ; an
imperious voice cried, “Hold your tongues, you fools! Hold your tongues! . . .”
Someone else called: “Hear to Jack Rangsley. Hear to him!” There was a silence.
A Novel Joseph Conrad, Ford Madox Ford. “Don't let them hang me, Jack
Rangsley,” I sobbed. “You know I'm no spy. Don't let 'em hang me, Jack.” He rode
his horse up to me, and caught me by the collar. “Hold your tongue,” he said
“Come along,” Rangsley said, leading me gently enough to the road, which was
five steps behind. “It's all a joke,” he snarled. “A pretty bad one for those
catchpolls. Hear 'em groan. The drop's not two feet.” We made a few paces down
the road ...
Jack Rangsley was a tall, big-boned, thin man, with something sinister in the
lines of his horseman's cloak, and something reckless in the way he set his
spurred heel on the ground. He was the son of an old Marsh squire. Old
Rangsley had ...
“Come along,” Rangsley said; “up with you. We'll talk as we go.” Someone
helped me into a saddle; my legs trembled in the stirrups as if I had ridden a
thousand miles on end already. I imagine I must have fallen into a stupor; for I
have only a ...
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - ToddSherman - LibraryThing
“And on this ghostly sigh, on this breath, with the feeble click of beads in the nun’s hands, a silence fell upon the room, vast as the stillness of a world of unknown faiths, loves, beliefs, of ... Read full review