My dear Bird⁠— I have always held⁠—and I hold as strongly now as ever⁠—that a novel should have no preface. It should have no preface for aesthetico-moral reasons, and because prefatory matter takes a...

When you came in the space was desultory, rectangular, warm after the drip of the winter night, and transfused with a brown-orange dust that was light. It was shaped like the house a child draws. Thre...

When you came in the space was desultory, rectangular, warm after the drip of the winter night, and transfused with a brown-orange dust that was light. It was shaped like the house a child draws. Thre...

The “All Clear” went at once after that. Its suddenness was something surprising, the mournful-cheerful, long notes dying regretfully on a night that had only just gone quiet after the perfectly aston...

The one thing that stood out sharply in Tietjens’ mind when at last, with a stiff glass of rum punch, his officer’s pocketbook complete with pencil because he had to draft before eleven a report as to...

They had gone back up the hill so that Levin might telephone to headquarters for his own car in case the general’s chauffeur should not have the sense to return for him. But that was as far as Tietjen...

In the admirably appointed, white-enamelled, wickerworked, bemirrored lounge of the best hotel of that town Sylvia Tietjens sat in a wickerwork chair, not listening rather abstractedly to a staff-majo...

In the admirably appointed, white-enamelled, wickerworked, bemirrored lounge of the best hotel of that town Sylvia Tietjens sat in a wickerwork chair, not listening rather abstractedly to a staff-majo...

She found an early opportunity to carry on her investigations. For, at dinner that night, she found herself, Tietjens having gone to the telephone with a lance-corporal, opposite what she took to be a...

A shadow⁠—the shadow of the General Officer Commanding in Chief⁠—falling across the bar of light that the sunlight threw in at his open door seemed providentially to awaken Christopher Tietjens, who w...

A shadow⁠—the shadow of the General Officer Commanding in Chief⁠—falling across the bar of light that the sunlight threw in at his open door seemed providentially to awaken Christopher Tietjens, who w...

General Lord Edward Campion, G.C.B., K.C.M.G. (military), D.S.O., etc., sat, radiating glory and composing a confidential memorandum to the Secretary of State for War, on a bully-beef case, leaning fo...