Word: manors
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...Then there's the "devil's party" room, an apartment on the top floor of a 15th century manor house that emits strange sounds after midnight. According to legend, a mysterious man in a cape rented the apartment a few hundred years back; a neighbor who peaked around the door to find out what all the noise was about one night saw the devil himself. The single window in the room is now bricked up and the glazing painted with a fake curtain. According to a clerk at a nearby hotel, a Dutch diplomat who not long ago rented rooms...
...their attempts to escape—Britain left behind, their manor falling into decrepitude––all for nothing. The Stable Boy had not been left behind. He was a stowaway, right there in Frederick’s loins. And now the stowaway was stirring...
...stable that day. He was almighty. He would call her now, call her as she stood quivering and gasping in this great barren hall, before she had time to find Frederick and attempt to keep the pact that they had made when coming to Italy, when fleeing from the manor. Two fugitives lost in a violent sea in which their ships had catastrophically collided in disputed territory.But now he had called her. Yes? What? Yes. Yes. She felt as though her insides were ripping, palpably giving way. Her flesh expanded masochistically, straining forward as it sensed the approach...
...three guys were able to track and count the candidates’ buzzwords, analyze their body language, and isolate their argumentative technique. The event was a nerd smorgasbord, as satisfying to the tech geeks as it was to the policy wonks.I turned to Eric Gunther and Justin Manor of Sosolimited (the third member is John Rothenberg) for advice on how to describe what I had just witnessed. Their technique is not about distorting the debate, but rather about making it easier to understand.“As much as we’re adding things, we’re also...
...floor.With a sigh, Frederick stood violently and exited the room. A paper fell from his Byron. Roxanna automatically picked it up. The poor man! thought our little countrymaid, gazing after him through the sunny open doorway, so different from the dark orifices and somber corners of the manor in England. But no! and Roxanna shook her golden head firmly. She wished that she were not so invested in Frederick’s happiness, were not so aware of his every sigh and glance. Yet she could not help it. She felt an inexplicable connection with him, as though the blood...