Résultats lu par "Barbara Goodson" dans Toutes les catégories

"The Game of Cat and Mouse": There came a ticking of some clock or another. And the sound of a dripping faucet somewhere in the house was like a hammer to an anvil. Our breaths were loud, but my heart sounded louder to me.

I do not suppose that you have brought your revolver with you Watson? I shook my head to indicate that my response was in the negative to his question. He turned his head forward again and led us through the kitchen, past several side pantries. As we cautiously inched forward, Holmes observed that the blood trail consisted of droplets of varying size. "Whomever it came from, they must have been applying intermittent pressure on the wound as they walked."

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"Gentlemen, I am here to represent the interest of Henry Bank & Trust. We would like to resolve the situation quickly and quietly, so that all the investors can move forward with a minimum of anxiety. Holmes sat across from her, studying her with a nonplussed air. "I must admit; he said, that I do not know how to assist you. Inspector Lestrade was here earlier, and it appears that you are missing nothing and they have no thieves in custody. When the bank emptied today, everything was in place, except for the criminals."

Jane screeched at this further betrayal and went for Henry. They began to struggle. Henry was the stronger out of the two, yet the woman's pain was unstoppable. His hands wrapped around her throat and Jane clawed at his face until she fell. She lay there, across the tracks, and was quite still. Mrs. Cavell gasped in shock and Henry ran past us back to the train. We stared down at Jane's body.

The bride carried no decaying roses, but her bridal dress was torn and burnt. Her bare legs, starved needle points, staggered disjointedly. The veil hung low over her face. I had my pistol, however I could not shoot. If it was a ghost, the bullet would surely pass through. If it was flesh, then I would be shooting dead a woman. Her hands, the fingernails long and cracked, lifted up the veil. Her face! Even in the darkness I could see its ruin.

In the quiet town of Seneca Falls, New York, over the course of two days in July 1848, a small group of women and men, led by Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott, held a convention that would launch the woman's rights movement and change the course of history. The implications of that remarkable convention would be felt around the world - and indeed are still being felt today.