Fair of Face C. Hare John Franklin,

Fair of Face C. Hare

John Franklin, with whom I was at Oxford, invited me to stay with his people at Markhampton for the Markshire Hunt Ball'. He and his sister were arranging a small party for it, he said.

"I've never met your sister," I remarked. "What is she like?"

"She is a beauty," said John, seriously and simply.

I thought at the time that it was an odd, old-fashioned phrase, but it turned out to be strictly and literally true. Deborah Franklin was beautiful in the grand, classic manner. She didn't look in the least like a film star or a model. But looking at her you forgot everything. It was the sheer beauty of her face that took your breath away.

With looks like that, it would be asking too much to expect anything startling in the way of brains, and I found Deborah, a trifle dull. She was of course well aware of her extraordinary good looks, and was perfectly prepared to discuss them, just as a man seven feet high might talk about the advantages and inconveniences of being tall.

Most of our party were old friends of the Franklins, who took Deborah for granted as a local phenomenon, but among them was a newcomer — a young man with a beard named Aubrey Melcombe, who had latelytaken charge of the local museum. As soon as he set eyes on Deborah he said:

"We have never met before, but your face, of course, is perfectly familiar."

Deborah had evidently heard that one before.

"I never give sitting to photographers," she said, "but people will snap me in the street. It's such a nuisance."

"Photographs!" said Aubrey. "I mean your portrait — the one that was painted four hundred years ago. Has nobody ever told you that you are the living image of the Warbeck Titian?"

"I've never heard of the Warbeck Titian," said Deborah,

Результаты (английский) 1:

Fair of Face c. Hare John Franklin, with whom I was at Oxford, invited me to stay with his people at Markhampton for the Markshire Hunt Ball '. He and his sister were arranging a small party for it, he said. "I've never met your sister," I remarked. "What is she like?" "She is a beauty," said John, seriously and simply. I thought at the time that it was an odd, old-fashioned phrase, but it turned out to be strictly and literally true. Deborah Franklin was beautiful in the grand, classic manner. She didn't look in the least like a film star or a model. But looking at her you forgot everything. It was the sheer beauty of her face that took your breath away. With looks like that, it would be asking too much to expect anything startling in the way of brains, and I found Deborah, a trifle dull. She was of course well aware of her extraordinary good looks, and was perfectly prepared to discuss them, just as a man seven feet high might talk about the advantages and inconveniences of being tall. Most of our party were old friends of the Franklins, who took Deborah for granted as a local phenomenon, but among them was a newcomer is a young man with a beard named Aubrey Melcombe, who had the charge of the latelytaken local museum. As soon as he set eyes on Deborah he said: "We have never met before, but your face, of course, is perfectly familiar." Deborah had evidently heard that one before. "I never give sitting to photographers," she said, "but people will snap me in the street. It's such a nuisance." "Photographs!" said Aubrey. "I mean your portrait — the one that was painted four hundred years ago. Has nobody ever told you that you are the living image of the Warbeck Titian?" "I've never heard of the Warbeck Titian," said Deborah,

Результаты (английский) 2:

Face of C. Fair Hare John Franklin, with whom I was at Oxford, invited me to stay with his people at Markhampton Markshire for the Hunt Ball '. And his sister He were arranging a small party for it, he said. "I've never met your sister," I remarked. "What is she like?" "She is a beauty," said John, seriously and simply. I thought at the time that it was an odd, old-fashioned phrase, but it turned out to be strictly and literally true. Deborah Franklin was beautiful in the grand, classic manner. She did not look in the least like a film star or a model. But looking at her you forgot everything. Was the sheer It beauty of her face that took your breath away. With looks like that, it would be asking too much to expect anything startling in the way of brains, and I found Deborah, a trifle dull. She was of course well aware of her extraordinary good looks, and was perfectly prepared to discuss them, just as a man seven feet high might talk about the advantages and inconveniences of being tall. Most of our party were old friends of the Franklins, who took Deborah for granted as a local phenomenon, but among them was a newcomer - a young man with a beard named Aubrey Melcombe, who had latelytaken charge of the local museum. As soon as he set eyes on Deborah he said: "We have never met before, but your face, of course, is perfectly familiar." Deborah had evidently heard that one before. "I never give sitting to photographers," she said, "but people will snap me in the street. It's such a nuisance." "Photographs!" said Aubrey. "I mean your portrait - the one that was painted four hundred years ago. Has nobody ever told you that you are the living image of the Titian Warbeck?" "I've never heard of the Titian Warbeck," said Deborah,

Результаты (английский) 3:

fair of face c. Hare

john franklin, with whom i was at oxford, invited me to stay with his people at Markhampton for the Markshire hunt ball '. he and his sister were arranging a small party for it, he said.

"i've never met your sister," i remarked. " what is she like? "

"she is a beauty," said john, one and one.

i thought at the time that it was an odd, old village studentsbut it turned out to be strictly and literally true. deborah franklin was located in the large, classic manner. she didn't look in the least like a film star or a model. but looking at her you forgot everything. it is for the beauty of her face that took your breath away.

with looks like that, it would be asking too much to expect anything startling in the way of brains.and i found these fragrant deborah, a dull. she was of course well aware of her extraordinary good looks, and was well prepared to discuss them, just as a man seven feet high might talk about the advantages and inconveniences of being tall.

most of our party were old friends of the Franklins deborah, who took for granted as a local first.but among them was a way - a young man with a beard named Aubrey Melcombe latelytaken, who had charge of the local museum. as soon as he set eyes on deborah he said:

"we have never met before, but your face, of course, is perfectly familiar."

deborah had evidently heard that one before.

"i never give than to photographers," she said, "but people will snap me in the street.