Word: swindleton
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Incest?” said The Stable Boy.“Wivout e’en a peep of a doubt,” replied Oliver K. Swindleton, rubbing his hands together. “Oi could ’ardly believe th’news meself.”The two were seated at their usual table, leaning into the candle that burned weakly in the tavern’s noxious air. Reaching into the pocket of his tattered waistcoat, Ollie produced a letter and held it up between his thumb and forefinger...
...man’s father slept with every servant in the county, after all. There’s no telling how many bastard relatives Frederick has running around!”“Oh?” said The Stable Boy.***The Stable Boy and Oliver P. Swindleton met that evening in one of the neighboring county’s taverns. It was crowded. Tucked into a corner, leaning at one another over tankards of ale, Ollie and The Stable Boy conversed for not more than five minutes. The Stable Boy handed Ollie an envelope and a small...
...bottle of wine, which she had consumed, to Frederick’s horror and Filippo’s delighted surprise, during the short ride to the museum. “To better appreciate the paintings,” she had said.Filippo–in reality Oliver J. Swindleton, accomplice to The Stable Boy and visitor of English prostitutes–had been prattling on all the while. “Ina di Uffizi,” he said, “You willa not believe how many of da antiques you cana see. Da statues, da paintings: da Vinci...
...keening whistle sounded over the Italian countryside as a small train appeared in the middle distance. At the fairground platform, Oliver J. Swindleton fiddled with his stolen cravat and practiced his Italian accent.“Eh...veridamente molto bene. A-pleased-ah to meet you signora! Mozzarella...vino...andante!”Squeaking slightly, the miniature engine pulled into the station. The coupling rod of the middle wheel slowly and rhythmically turned and straightened. Ollie immediately recognized Felicity’s elegant head as she sat in one of the little passenger cars. He glanced at her again?...
...sawdust, spit, tar, and drink. The Stable Boy’s eyes were some time in adjusting to the gloom. But, yes, there he was. It was hard to make him out in the tangle of fleshy limbs that occupied the loveseat in the far corner, but Oliver J. Swindleton had kept up his end of the agreement.“Ollie,” cried The Stable Boy. “I’ve got it. It’s time to go.”“Wot?” squeaked Ollie from beneath three...
| 1 |