| Peter Ruff and the Double Four Contributor(s): Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Author), 1stworld Library (Editor) |
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ISBN: 1421841223 ISBN-13: 9781421841229 Publisher: 1st World Library - Literary Society OUR PRICE: $18.00 Product Type: Paperback - Other Formats Published: February 2007 Annotation: The whole epitome of modern life was, he argued, to be found among the columns of the daily press. The police news, perhaps, was his favourite study, but he did not neglect the advertisements. It followed, therefore, as a matter of course, that the appeal of "M" in the personal column of the Daily Mail was read by him on the morning of its appearance - read not once only nor twice - it was a paragraph which had its own peculiar interest for him. |
| Additional Information |
| BISAC Categories: - Fiction | Action & Adventure - Fiction | Mystery & Detective - Collections & Anthologies - Fiction | Short Stories (single Author) |
| Dewey: FIC |
| Physical Information: 1.02" H x 5.5" W x 8.5" (1.27 lbs) 456 pages |
| Themes: - Cultural Region - British Isles |
| Descriptions, Reviews, Etc. |
| Publisher Description: There was nothing about the supper party on that particular Sunday evening in November at Daisy Villa, Green Street, Streatham, which seemed to indicate in any way that one of the most interesting careers connected with the world history of crime was to owe its very existence to the disaster which befell that little gathering. The villa was the residence and also - to his credit - the unmortgaged property of Mr. David Barnes, a struggling but fairly prosperous coal merchant of excellent character, some means, and Methodist proclivities. His habit of sitting without his coat when carving, although deprecated by his wife and daughter on account of the genteel aspirations of the latter, was a not unusual one in the neighbourhood; and coupled with the proximity of a cold joint of beef, his seat at the head of the table, and a carving knife and fork grasped in his hands, established clearly the fact of his position in the household, which a somewhat weak physiognomy might otherwise have led the casual observer to doubt. Opposite him, at the other end of the table, sat his wife, Mrs. Barnes, a somewhat voluminous lady with a high colour, a black satin frock, and many ornaments. On her left the son of the house, eighteen years old, of moderate stature, somewhat pimply, with the fashion of the moment reflected in his pink tie with white spots, drawn through a gold ring, and curving outwards to seek obscurity underneath a dazzling waistcoat. |