Anna Coleman Ladd The Candid Adventurer

ISBN 13: 9780217113861

The Candid Adventurer

9780217113861: The Candid Adventurer

This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1913. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... the candid adventurer part I A studio in new england Ah, everywhere Are found the Gates of Things-to-Be! Kaudasa, Sl1atountala "it's this superabundance of wealth," remarked Jerome, with a large gesture towards the pots and pans, "that will be the death of me, Ailsie! Do I really require so many shapes to cook my food in?" His old nurse mumbled something unintelligibly Scotch, as she pig-headedly continued to range the shining "battery" around the gasrange which fitted so neatly into the horse's stall. Jerome himself strode back and forth, his arms full of horsehair furniture, which he deposited with a sigh of disgust just outside the stable-door. "The rockers are for you, Ailsie. Or, I'll help you make kindling-wood of them--happy thought! Kindling is dear, and rockers are cheap. No--I don't want any chairs in the workshop! A painter 's got to keep moving. I don't want any one sitting about; and I do want all the floor-space available.--Besides, who is likely to come?" he ended disconsolately, feeling in his pocket for his pipe. Then, as though it was an habitual prayer with him: "O beata solitude! O sola beatitude!" he murmured. "There's Mrs. Osborne?" said Ailsie unexpectedly. She was an excellent cook, but she had an exasperating way of hearing soliloquies, and ignoring direct questions. Jerome fingered his pipe with the faintest indication of hope. "No," he remarked decisively. "She is a widow, with a daughter. Probably stout. Certainly old. And she's also exclusive: that is, not given to calling on impecunious young painters, from whom she rents ancestral homes." He dropped the pipe back into his pocket, as though it had lost its savour; and went into the adjoining room to stare at it, his hands stuck through the belt of his Russian blouse. The place cert...

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