We started off class with Professor Bergren giving us a little grammar lesson on run on sentences. The lessons consisted of using words such as however, and how we should use them carefully–usually when however is used in the middle of a sentence it is…

This week we are focusing on close- reading of specific passages in Lady Audley’s secret for each of the main characters, that our groups focused on. We began by talking about a passage focusing on Phoebe Marks, noticing the imagery was drab and boring. As…

“The lowing of a cow in the quiet meadows, the splash of a trout in the fish-pond, the last notes of a tired bird, the creaking of waggon-wheels upon the distant road, every now and then breaking the evening silence, only made the stillness of…

‘The widower only sighed and puffed his cigar fiercely out of the open window. Perhaps he was thinking of that far-away time—little better than five years ago, in fact; but such an age gone by to him—when he first met the woman for whom he…

“Lucy Audley was radiant on this cold and snowy January morning. Other peoples noses are rudely assailed by the sharp fingers of the grim ice king, but not my lady’s; other peoples lips turn pale and blue with the chilling influence of the bitter weather,…

“‘You shall never live to do this,’ she said. ‘I will kill you first. Why have you tormented me so? Why could you not let me alone? What harm had I ever done you that you should make yourself my persecutor, and dog my steps, and watch…

“I was not wicked when I was young,” she thought, as she stared gloomily at the fire, “I was only thoughtless. I never did any harm- at least, never willfully. Have I ever been really wicked, I wonder?” mused. “My worst wickedness have been the…

“My lady had not fainted; she allowed the girl to assist her, and rose from the ground upon which she had grovelled. Her golden hair fell in loose, dishevelled masses about her ivory throat and shoulders; her face and lips were colourless; her eyes terrible…

“Her crimson dress, exaggerated like all the rest in this strange picture, hung about her in folds that looked like flames, her fair head peeping out of the lurid mass of colour, as if out of a raging furnace. Indeed, the crimson dress, the sunshine…