The Innocence of Father BrownCassell, 1911 - 335 pagine The Innocence of Father Brown is a classic mystery collection by G.K. Chesterton and an exciting compilation of twelve mystery classics featuring the amatuer detective, Father Brown, the short, stumpy Catholic priest with "uncanny insight into human evil."Contents: The blue cross -- The secret garden -- The queer feet -- The flying stars -- The invisible man -- The honour of Israel Gow -- The wrong shape -- The sins of Prince Saradine -- The hammer of God -- The eye of Apollo -- The sign of the broken sword -- The three tools of death.Father Brown is a fictional Roman Catholic priest and amateur detective who is featured in 53 short stories published between 1910 and 1936 written by English novelist G. K. Chesterton. Father Brown solves mysteries and crimes using his intuition and keen understanding of human nature. |
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Angus answered Arthur St asked Flambeau atheist blacksmith Brayne broken sword Camden Town church cigar Clare colonel colours corner corpse cried Flambeau crime dark dark young lady dead detective doctor eyes face Father Brown figure Flam flat front door garden gentleman Gilder Glengyle Greenford grey hair hammer Hampstead Heath hand harlequin head heard inspector instant Ivan Kalon killed knew lady laugh lift little priest looked Lord Galloway mean minutes murder Neil O'Brien never O'Brien Olivier paper Persian cat police Prince Saradine queer Quinton river round Royce seemed servant silence silver Sir Aaron smile Smythe sort Stacey stared stood stopped story strange street suddenly sword talking tall tell thing thought took top hat trees turned Valentin voice waiter walked Wilfred Bohun window wrong yellow young
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Pagina 127 - Well, my dear," said the young man, cheerfully, "if he were Satan himself, he is done for now you have told somebody. One goes mad all alone, old girl. But when was it you fancied you felt and heard our squinting friend?" "I heard James Welkin laugh as plainly as I hear you speak," said the girl, steadily. "There was nobody there, for I stood just outside the shop at the corner, and could see down both streets at once. I had forgotten how he laughed, though his laugh was as odd as his squint. I had...
Pagina 156 - I only suggested that because you said one could not plausibly connect snuff with clockwork or candles with bright stones. Ten false philosophies will fit the universe; ten false theories will fit Glengyle Castle. But we want the real explanation of the castle and the universe.5 But are there no other exhibits?
Pagina 253 - The air will do you good." Bohun followed him, and came out on a kind of stone gallery or balcony outside the building, from which one could see the illimitable plain in which their small hill stood, wooded away to the purple horizon and dotted with villages and farms. Clear and square, but quite small beneath them, was the blacksmith's yard, where the inspector still stood taking notes and the corpse still lay like a smashed fly. "Might be the map of the world, mightn't it?" said Father Brown. "Yes,"...
Pagina 30 - Well,' went on Father Brown, with lumbering lucidity, 'as you wouldn't leave any tracks for the police, of course somebody had to. At every place we went to, I took care to do something that would get us talked about for the rest of the day. I didn't do much harm — a splashed wall, spilt apples, a broken window; but I saved the cross, as the cross will always be saved. It is at Westminster by now. I rather wonder you didn't stop it with the Donkey's Whistle.
Pagina 25 - Reason and justice grip the remotest and the loneliest star. Look at those stars. Don't they look as if they were single "diamonds and sapphires? Well, you can imagine any mad botany or geology you please. Think of forests of adamant with leaves of brilliants. Think the moon is a blue moon, a single elephantine sapphire. But don't fancy that all that frantic astronomy would make the smallest difference to the reason and justice of conduct. On plains of opal, under cliffs cut out of pearl, you would...
Pagina 254 - Details of stone, enormous by their proximity, were relieved against a pattern of fields and farms, pigmy in their distance. A carved bird or beast at a corner seemed like some vast walking or flying dragon wasting the pastures and villages below. The whole atmosphere was dizzy and dangerous, as if men were upheld in air amid the gyrating wings of colossal genii; and the whole of that old church, as tall and rich as a cathedral, seemed to sit upon the sunlit country like a cloud-burst.
Pagina 90 - is like any other work of art. Don't look surprised; crimes are by no means the only works of art that come from an infernal workshop. But every work of art, divine or diabolic, has one indispensable mark — I mean, that the centre of it is simple, however much the fulfilment may be complicated. Thus, in Hamlet, let us say, the grotesqueness of the grave-digger, the flowers of the mad girl, the fantastic finery of Osric, the pallor of the ghost and the grin of the skull are all oddities in a sort...
Pagina 5 - Valentin kept his eye open for someone else; he looked out steadily for anyone, rich or poor, male or female, who was well up to six feet; for Flambeau was four inches above it. He alighted at Liverpool Street, however, quite conscientiously secure that he had not missed the criminal so far. He then went to Scotland Yard to regularize his position and arrange for help in case of need; he then lit another cigarette and went for a long stroll in the streets of London. As he was walking in the streets...
Pagina 255 - But he — he didn't do it," said Bohun tremulously. "No," said the other in an odd voice; "we know he didn't do it." After a moment he resumed, looking tranquilly out over the plain with his pale gray eyes. "I knew a man...
Pagina 5 - Yard to regularise his position and arrange for help in case of need; he then lit another cigarette and went for a long stroll in the streets of London. As he was walking in the streets and squares beyond Victoria, he paused suddenly and stood. It was a quaint, quiet square, very typical of London, full of an accidental stillness. The tall, flat houses round looked at once prosperous and uninhabited; the square of shrubbery in the centre looked as deserted as a green Pacific islet.