Trilby (Oxford World's Classics)
George Du Maurier
Language: English
Pages: 368
ISBN: 0199538808
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
First published in 1894, the story of the diva Trilby O'Ferrall and her mentor, Svengali, has entered the mythology of that period alongside Dracula and Sherlock Holmes. Immensely popular for years, the novel led to a hit play, a series of popular films, Trilby products from hats to ice-cream, and streets in Florida named after characters in the book. The setting reflects Du Maurier's bohemian years as an art student in Paris before he went to London to make a career in journalism. A celebrated caricaturist for Punch magazine, Du Maurier's drawings for the novel--of which his most significant are included here--form a large part of its appeal.
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Wife). Svengali, it seems, had reasons for passionately hating Little Billee. He had not seen him for five years – not since the Christmas festivity in the Place St Anatole, when they had sparred together after supper, and Svengali’s nose had got in the way on this occasion, and had been made to bleed; but that was not why he hated Little Billee. When he caught sight of him standing on the curb in the Place de la Concorde and watching the procession of ‘tout Paris’, he knew him directly, and.
Of this band of brothers he had been working for three or four years in a London art school, drawing and painting from the life; he had also worked from the antique in the British Museum – so that he was no novice. As he made his début at Carrel’s one Monday morning he felt somewhat shy and ill at ease. He had studied French most earnestly at home in England, and could read it pretty well, and even write it and speak it after a fashion; but he spoke it with much difficulty, and found studio.
Look a little lower down between the houses, on the other side of the river! There is a little, ugly grey building there, and inside are eight slanting slabs of brass, all of a row, like beds in a school dormitory, and one fine day you shall lie asleep on one of those slabs – you, Drilpy, who would not listen to Svengali, and therefore lost him!… And over the middle of you will be a little leather apron, and over your head a little brass tap, and all day long and all night the cold water shall.
Pale, his hat on the back of his head, his hair staring all at sixes and sevens, like a sick Scotch terrier’s. ‘Good Lord! what’s the matter?’ said Taffy. ‘Oh! oh! oh! she’s sitting at Carrel’s!’ ‘Who’s sitting at Carrel’s?’ ‘Trilby! sitting to all those ruffians! There she was, just as I opened the door; I saw her, I tell you! The sight of her was like a blow between the eyes, and I bolted! I shall never go back to that beastly hole again! I’m off to Barbizon, to paint the forest; I was.
Window to advertise the merits of some particular hair-wash. She walked slowly down to the front, her hands hanging at her sides in quite a simple fashion, and made a slight inclination of her head and body towards the imperial box, and then to right and left. Her lips and cheeks were rouged; her dark level eyebrows nearly met at the bridge of her short high nose. Through her parted lips you could see her large glistening white teeth; her grey eyes looked straight at Svengali. Her face was.