Cleo The Magnificent - Or, the Muse of the Real
94 pages
English

Cleo The Magnificent - Or, the Muse of the Real

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94 pages
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Publié le 08 décembre 2010
Nombre de lectures 17
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The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cleo The Magnificent, by Louis Zangwill This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Cleo The Magnificent The Muse of the Real Author: Louis Zangwill Release Date: June 23, 2009 [eBook #29207] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CLEO THE MAGNIFICENT*** E-text prepared by David Edwards, Stephanie Eason, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/toronto) Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See http://www.archive.org/details/cleomagnificento00zanguoft BOOK I. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter IV. Chapter V. Chapter VI. Chapter VII. Chapter VIII. Chapter IX. BOOK II. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter IV. Chapter V. Chapter VI. Chapter VII. BOOK III. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter IV. Chapter V. Chapter VI. Chapter VII. Chapter VIII. Chapter IX. BOOK IV. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter IV. Chapter V. Chapter VI. Chapter VII. BOOK V. Chapter I. Chapter II. Chapter III. Chapter IV. Chapter V. Chapter VI. Chapter VII. Chapter VIII. Chapter IX. MR. LOUIS ZANGWILL'S WORKS. A Drama in Dutch. Spectator: Certainly a book which has not merely cleverness but real vitality. Speaker: Deliciously original ... and told with great spirit, humor and dramatic vigor. "T. P." in Weekly Sun: What a delightful creation Mrs. de Griendt is! Indeed I should have personally been glad if we had had more of her.... I think the reader will agree with me that I have not exaggerated the literary merit of this exquisitely-described scene. [Pg 2] The World and a Man. Academy: A masterful novelist. Illustrated London News: One of the cleverest novels of the day. Pall Mall Gazette: Finely told.... It is an achievement in a high form of art. Daily Chronicle: It contains many passages which the greatest masters in the same genre might have been proud to have written. The Beautiful Miss Brooke. Brooklyn Eagle: A brilliant bit of work. Detroit Free Press: He has analyzed with ability and finish.... This is a story to be admired for its discernment and its originality. Boston Beacon: The story is thoroughly entertaining and well done, ... and in analysis of character, force, and directness, it exceeds the author's previous essays in fiction. Chicago Record: Very few recent novels which have come out of England will compare with this story in two points—absolute conciseness of form and analysis of motive.... Here is a theme of vital truthfulness and Mr. Louis Zangwill has dealt with it with the hand of a master of form.... A Nineteenth Century Miracle. Academy: As tantalizing a problem as was ever bound in cloth. Pall Mall Gazette: As tangled a skein as ever the brain of Gaboriau evolved. Daily Chronicle: We have seldom read a better piece of mystification. Morning Leader: It would probably defy the most ingeniously imaginative reader to make in the course of the story even an approximate leap toward the heart of the miracle that Louis Zangwill has wrought for his astonishment. CLEO THE MAGNIFICENT [Pg 3] or THE MUSE OF THE REAL A Novel by Louis Zangwill AUTHOR OF "T HE BEAUTIFUL M ISS BROOKE," "T HE WORLD AND A M AN," ETC., ETC. NEW YORK: G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers. LONDON: WM. HEINEMANN. MDCCCXCVIII. [Pg 4] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1897, by G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., In the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. Cleo the Magnificent. BOOK I. CHAPTER I. It was past midnight, and both men were smoking leisurely by the study fireside. Morgan Druce sat just on the edge of a low chair, his long, slim body bent forward, his clean-shaven boyish face well within the glow of the fire. Though he appeared to be looking at it, he was only conscious of its warmth. Robert Ingram, middle-aged and bearded, lolled back in sensuous comfort. "The long and the short of it is," he resumed, "you've a soul-crisis on just at present. Crises are bad for the digestion, and I took care to grow out of them long ago." "Our temperaments are very different," said Morgan. [Pg 5] [Pg 6] [Pg 7] "That's what makes your case so difficult to meet," returned Ingram. "It's your infernal temperament. One never knows how to take it. In fact, you're the sort of person in whose existence I never really believed; for though, as you know, I once had ideals and a literary conscience, I was always aware they would go as soon as I had a market for everything I could manufacture. You are the genuine incorruptible artist, to whom art is [Pg 8] sacred. I really don't know whether to be doubtful of my cynicism or your sanity." "That my case is a pretty bad one I've already admitted," put in Morgan. "Now, if you were only some poor devil who was alone in the world," went on Ingram without heeding his remark, "I could take you in hand and make something of you, for you've quite brains enough. Poor devils are generally more reasonable in their views than you, even when they're geniuses. You simply keep on wearing out your heart day after day. Why? For fame? What is it worth? Well, I won't answer the question—I deal quite enough in platitudes." "You don't understand, Ingram. What do you really know of me?" "Well, if I don't know you by this time, you must be an uncommonly deep person—or perhaps I am an uncommonly shallow one." Morgan Druce did not answer. His last remark had been more of a reflection than an interrogation. What did Ingram really know of him, he asked himself again, despite the five years of the indefinable relation between them? Admitting that the man beneath the cynic was kindly and sympathetic, yet he could not but be aware that Ingram's treason to the aspirations of his youth had destroyed the finer edge of feeling. His vision did not respond to subtler vibrations; his judgment was broad and coarse. Such was Morgan's intuition about Robert Ingram. He believed the man to be sincere with him and he trusted him. And yet, as he looked up now and saw Ingram, relapsed into his luxurious arm chair, blowing rings of [Pg 9] smoke, he seemed to detect something in his expression that filled him with a vague distrust about the genuineness of his professed interest in him. There was a sort of swagger in his whole posture, a slickness about his well-dressed, well-fed body, and a
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