Summary

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

Mr. Spencer's genial face was wreathed in smiles. He said the day was cut out for our ascent, that everything was in readiness, that the sky was clear, and that the wind would carry us directly over London, only he wished there was not quite so much of it.
"THE BALLOON WAS A FLAT, LIMP MASS OF RED AND YELLOW SILK AND CORD NETTING."
It was hard to believe that the flat, limp mass of red and yellow silk and cord netting that lay so inert and shapeless on the grass was shortly to bear us among the fleecy clouds that now flecked the heavens.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

I had no taste for martyrdom, and had too delicate a stomach to take a wife without love.
I forget the name of the village at which this halt was made, but I remember that the sign of the inn was the "George and Dragon." The place had a long white front, with green shutters to the windows, and over the door a great lamp hung from stanchions let into the wall. I judged that trade was slack, for as I descended from my carriage I saw the landlord standing at the door, smoking a pipe, and winking in the sunlight like a sleepy dog.
Source: Gutenberg

Various The Harmsworth Magazine, Vol. 1…

No man likes to awake suddenly and find that he has become middle-aged. He may be fond of joking about it, but that is because he believes he is far from its border. When the knowledge comes to him suddenly, and, above all, through a woman who has found favour in his eyes, it is bitter.
Derwent watched them go, cursing the young soldier.
"An insolent puppy—a mere boy!" he said. "It is dishonourable for him to be making love to her. He is a pauper!"
De Courcy hardly noticed Derwent beyond a vague wonder at his churlishness.
"Rum beggar, Daphne," he said.
Source: Gutenberg

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