The La Chance Mine Mystery Romance, Murder and Suspense
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Form:Einzelkauf Download
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Sprache:Englisch
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Verlag:E-artnow
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Produktdetails
Format
ePUB
Kopierschutz
Nein
Family Sharing
Ja
Text-to-Speech
Ja
Erscheinungsdatum
12.11.2020
Verlag
E-artnowSeitenzahl
169 (Printausgabe)
Dateigröße
605 KB
Sprache
Englisch
EAN
4064066386368
Susan Morrow Jones (1864-1926) was an author of romance and light mysteries.
Excerpt:
"To a stranger there might have seemed to be nothing particular to stare at, out on a lake where the world was all wind and lumpy seas and growing November twilight; but any one who had lived at La Chance knew better. By the map Lac Tremblant should have been our nearest gold route to civilization, but it was a lake that was no lake, as far as transport was concerned, and we never used it. The five-mile crossing I was making was just a fair sample of the forty miles of length Lac Tremblant stretched mockingly past the La Chance mine toward the main road from Caraquet-our nearest settlement-to railhead: and that was forty miles of queer water, sown with rocks that were sometimes visible as tombstones in a cemetery and sometimes hidden like rattlesnakes in a blanket. For the depth of Lac Tremblant, or its fairway, were two things no man might ever count on."
Excerpt:
"To a stranger there might have seemed to be nothing particular to stare at, out on a lake where the world was all wind and lumpy seas and growing November twilight; but any one who had lived at La Chance knew better. By the map Lac Tremblant should have been our nearest gold route to civilization, but it was a lake that was no lake, as far as transport was concerned, and we never used it. The five-mile crossing I was making was just a fair sample of the forty miles of length Lac Tremblant stretched mockingly past the La Chance mine toward the main road from Caraquet-our nearest settlement-to railhead: and that was forty miles of queer water, sown with rocks that were sometimes visible as tombstones in a cemetery and sometimes hidden like rattlesnakes in a blanket. For the depth of Lac Tremblant, or its fairway, were two things no man might ever count on."
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