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The sad curlews, annunciators of the autumn, had just appeared in a mass in a gray squall, fleeing from the high sea under the threat of approaching tempests. 

Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III ONE WAY TO DBOWN SOBBOW FORD walked up to the bar, with a smile upon his face which Sam misunderstood and so met with a conciliatory grin and a hand extended toward a certain round, ribbed bottle with a blue-and-silver label. Ford waved away the bottle and leaned, not on the bar but across it, and clutching Sam by the necktie, slapped him first upon one ear and next upon the other, until he was forced by the tingling of his own fingers to desist. By that time Sam's green necktie was pulled tight just under his nose, and he had swallowed his gum — which, considering the size of the lump, was likely to be the death of him. Ford did not say a word. He permitted Sam to jerk loose and back into a corner, and he watched the swift crimsoning of his ears with a keen interest. Since Sam's face had the pasty pallor of the badlyscared, the ears appeared much redder by contrast than they really were. Next, Ford turned his attention to the man beside him, who happened to be Bill. For one long minute the grim spirit of war hovered just over the two. " Aw, forget it, Ford," Bill urged ingratiatingly at last. " You don't want to lick anybody — least of all old Bill! Look at them knuckles! You could n't thump a feather bed. Anyway, you got the guilty party when you done slapped Sam up to a peak and then knocked the peak off. Made him swaller his cud, too, by hokey! Say, Sam, my old dad used to feed a cow on bacon-rinds when she done lost her cud. You try it, Sam. Mebby it might help them ears! Shove that there trouble-killer over this way, Sammy, and don't look so fierce at your uncle Bill; he 's liable to turn you across his knee and dust your pants proper." He turned again to Ford, scowling at the group and at life in general, while the snow melted upon his broad shoulder...

读者能看到一个表面漠然中立的叙事者背后的模糊性和矛盾性：作为帝国叙事的一分子，作者的面纱之下隐藏着东方主义的政治文化观；作为一个关注人性的个体作家，他的面纱之下隐藏着他对爱的怀疑和渴求、对人性的嘲讽和宽容。2005年，该小说被改编成同名电影。内容简介：故事发生在英国的殖民地香港和中国内陆一个叫“湄潭府”的地方。女主人公凯蒂·费恩因为和香港助理布政司查理通奸，被丈夫瓦尔特（香港政府的细菌学家）发现后胁迫她去了霍乱横行的湄潭府，最终瓦尔特不幸染病死去，凯蒂回到香港，重投查理怀抱后羞愧不已，最终回到英国和父亲和解，并和父亲同往巴哈马群岛生活。从《面纱》一书中，读者能看到一个表面漠然中立的叙事者背后的模糊性和矛盾性：作为帝国叙事的一分子，作者的面纱之下隐藏着东方主义的政治文化观；作为一个关注人性的个体作家，他的面纱之下隐藏着他对爱的怀疑和渴求、对人性的嘲讽和宽容。

The adventures of a dashing young prince who dispensed with protocol in selecting his wife. He hit upon the unique scheme of impersonating a barber in order to be perfectly free to choose the lady of his heart. The prince is actually Louis Phillipe de Valois, cousin of Louis XV of France, and certainly no gallant ever encountered more adventure in the pursuit of a bride.

 I am going to tell a story, one of those tales of astonishing adventures that happened years and years and years ago. Perhaps you wonder why it is that so many stories are told of "once on a time", and so few of these days in which we live; but that is easily explained.

The Well at the World's End is a fantasy novel by the British artist, poet, and author William Morris. It was first published in 1896 and has been reprinted a number of times since, most notably in two parts as the twentieth and twenty-first volumes of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy series in August and September 1970. It is also available in one volume along with a similar Morris tale, The Wood Beyond the World, in On the Lines of Morris' Romances: Two Books that Inspired J. R. R. Tolkien. Using language with elements of the medieval tales which were his models, Morris tells the story of Ralph of Upmeads, the fourth and youngest son of a minor king, who sets out, contrary to his parents' wishes, to find knightly adventure and seek the Well at the World's End, a magic well which will confer a near-immortality and strengthened destiny on those who drink from it. Ralph meets a mysterious lady who has drunk from the well, and they become lovers. However, she is killed, and with the help of Ursula, another maiden whom he meets upon the way, Ralph eventually attains the Well.

The Plumed Serpent is a novel by D. H. Lawrence, begun when writer was living at the D. H. Lawrence Ranch near Taos in U.S. state of New Mexico in 1924. It was first published by Martin Secker in 1926. The original working title of an early draft was "Quetzalcoatl", a reference to the cult of the plumed serpent in Mexico. The novel has a contemporary setting during the period of the Mexican Revolution. It opens with a group of tourists visiting a bullfight in Mexico City. One of them, Kate Leslie, departs in disgust and encounters Don Cipriano, a Mexican general. Later she meets his friend, an intellectual landowner Don Ramon, and travels to Sayula, a small town set on a lake. Ramon and Cipriano are leading a revival of a pre-Christian religion and Kate becomes drawn into their cult.

an excerpt from CHAPTER I: The woman leaned across the table towards her companion. "My friend," she said, "when we first met--I am ashamed, considering that I dine alone with you to-night, to reflect how short a time ago--you spoke of your removal here from Paris very much as though it were a veritable exile. I told you then that there might be surprises in store for you. This restaurant, for instance! We both know our Paris, yet do we lack anything here which you find at the Ritz or Giro's?"   The young man looked around him appraisingly. The two were dining at one of the newest and most fashionable restaurants in Berlin. The room itself, although a little sombre by reason of its oak panelling, was relieved from absolute gloom by the lightness and elegance of its furniture and appointments, the profusion of flowers, and the soft grey carpet, so thickly piled that every sound was deadened. The delicate strains of music came from an invisible orchestra concealed behind a canopy of palms. The head-waiters had the correct clerical air, half complacent, half dignified. Among the other diners were many beautiful women in marvellous toilettes. A variety of uniforms, worn by the officers at different tables, gave colour and distinction to a tout ensemble with which even Norgate could find no fault. "Germany has changed very much since I was here as a boy," he confessed. "One has heard of the growing wealth of Berlin, but I must say that I scarcely expected--" He hesitated. His companion laughed softly at his embarrassment. "Do not forget," she interrupted, "that I am Austrian--Austrian, that is to say, with much English in my blood. What you say about Germans does not greatly concern me." "Of course," Norgate resumed, as he watched the champagne poured into his glass, "one is too much inclined to form one's conclusions about a nation from the types one meets travelling, and you know what the Germans have done for Monte Carlo and the Riviera--even, to a lesser extent, for Paris and Rome. Wherever they have been, for the last few years, they seem to have left the trail of the nouveaux riches. It is not only their clothes but their manners and bearing which affront." The woman leaned her head for a moment against the tips of her slim and beautifully cared for fingers. She looked steadfastly across the table at her vis-a-vis. "Now that you are here," she said softly, "you must forget those things. You are a diplomatist, and it is for you, is it not, outwardly, at any rate, to see only the good of the country in which your work lies." Norgate flushed very slightly. His companion's words had savoured almost of a reproof. "You are quite right," he admitted. "I have been here for a month, though, and you are the first person to whom I have spoken like this. And you yourself," he pointed out, "encouraged me, did you not, when you insisted upon your Austro-English nationality?" "You must not take me too seriously," she begged, smiling. "I spoke foolishly, perhaps, but only for your good. You see, Mr. Francis Norgate, I am just a little interested in you and your career." "And I, dear Baroness," he replied, smiling across at her, "am more than a little interested in--you." She unfurled her fan.