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- Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
In 'A Charmed Life,' Richard Harding Davis presents a captivating exploration of the complexities of human nature through his vivid narrative style and acute character observations. Set against the backdrop of late 19th-century America, this novel deftly weaves elements of romance, adventure, and social commentary, reflecting the evolving cultural landscape of the time. Davis employs rich, descriptive imagery and sharp dialogue to invite readers into the lives of his vividly rendered characters, each representing a unique facet of society and its moral dilemmas. Richard Harding Davis was a prominent American journalist and writer whose career flourished in an era of rapid change and technological advancement. Notably known for his war correspondences and theatrical contributions, Davis's engagement with contemporary issues profoundly shaped his literary endeavors. His acute awareness of societal dynamics, paired with personal experiences'Äîranging from the bustling streets of New York to war zones in Europe'Äîprovided fertile ground for 'A Charmed Life,' a novel that intertwines personal predicaments with broader societal themes. 'A Charmed Life' is an essential read for those seeking to delve into the intricate interplay of fate and choice in human lives. Davis's masterful storytelling not only entertains but also provokes thoughtful reflection on the nature of happiness, ambition, and fulfillment. Readers who enjoy rich character development and incisive social critiques will find this work a compelling addition to their literary repertoire.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
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A Charmed Life
Table of Contents
She loved him so, that when he went away to a little war in which his country was interested she could not understand, nor quite forgive.
As the correspondent of a newspaper, Chesterton had looked on at other wars; when the yellow races met, when the infidel Turk spanked the Christian Greek; and one he had watched from inside a British square, where he was greatly alarmed lest he should be trampled upon by terrified camels. This had happened before he and she had met. After they met, she told him that what chances he had chosen to take before he came into her life fell outside of her jurisdiction. But now that his life belonged to her, this talk of his standing up to be shot at was wicked. It was worse than wicked; it was absurd.
When the Maine sank in Havana harbor and the word “war” was appearing hourly in hysterical extras, Miss Armitage explained her position.
“You mustn’t think,” she said, “that I am one of those silly girls who would beg you not to go to war.”
At the moment of speaking her cheek happened to be resting against his, and his arm was about her, so he humbly bent his head and kissed her, and whispered very proudly and softly, “No, dearest.”
At which she withdrew from him frowning.
“No! I’m not a bit like those girls,” she proclaimed. “I merely tell you YOU CAN’T GO! My gracious!” she cried, helplessly. She knew the words fell short of expressing her distress, but her education had not supplied her with exclamations of greater violence.
“My goodness!” she cried. “How can you frighten me so? It’s not like you,” she reproached him. “You are so unselfish, so noble. You are always thinking of other people. How can you talk of going to war—to be killed—to me? And now, now that you have made me love you so?”
The hands, that when she talked seemed to him like swallows darting and flashing in the sunlight, clutched his sleeve. The fingers, that he would rather kiss than the lips of any other woman that ever lived, clung to his arm. Their clasp reminded him of that of a drowning child he had once lifted from the surf.
“If you should die,” whispered Miss Armitage. “What would I do. What would I do!”
“But my dearest,” cried the young man. “My dearest ONE! I’ve GOT to go. It’s our own war. Everybody else will go,” he pleaded. “Every man you know, and they’re going to fight, too. I’m going only to look on. That’s bad enough, isn’t it, without sitting at home? You should be sorry I’m not going to fight.”
“Sorry!” exclaimed the girl. “If you love me—”
“If I love you,” shouted the young man. His voice suggested that he was about to shake her. “How dare you?”
She abandoned that position and attacked from one more logical.
