Saki: The Reticence of Lady Anne
Egbert came into the large, dimly lit drawing-room with the air of a man who is not certain whether he is entering a dovecote or a bomb factory, and is
Great Britain
Angela Carter: The Kiss
The winters in Central Asia are piercing and bleak, while the sweating, foetid summers bring cholera, dysentery and mosquitoes, but, in April, the air caresses like the touch of the
Graham Greene: A Little Place off the Edgware Road
Craven came up past the Achilles statue in the thin summer rain. It was only just after lighting-up time, but already the cars were lined up all the way to
Mary Shelley: The Mortal Immortal
July 16, 1833. — This is a memorable anniversary for me; on it I complete my three hundred and twenty-third year! The Wandering Jew? — certainly not. More than eighteen
Kingsley Amis: Mason’s Life
‘May I join you?’ The medium-sized man with the undistinguished clothes and the blank, anonymous face looked up at Pettigrew, who, glass of beer in hand, stood facing him across
Roald Dahl: Taste
HERE WERE SIX of us to dinner that night at Mike Schofield’s house in London: Mike and his wife and daughter, my wife and I, and a man called Richard Pratt.