{"product_id":"2940013763005","title":"Law of the Land","description":"Ralph Kingsmill drew a deep breath as he looked around. It seemed\u003cbr\u003elife had suddenly brought him all that man could desire. In his\u003cbr\u003ewaking dreams he had pictured this, never hoping to see it realised.\u003cbr\u003eAnd now it had all come to him in most unexpected fashion. A week\u003cbr\u003ebefore and what had he been? A poor, struggling author, with one or\u003cbr\u003etwo minor successes to his credit, burning with unsatisfied ambition,\u003cbr\u003estrong at one moment, lamentably weak the next; in short, a\u003cbr\u003ebrilliantly clever man, cursed with the temperament that usually goes\u003cbr\u003ewith the artistic faculty. He had had his debts and his dissolute\u003cbr\u003ecompanions, he had known a full pocket and a purse so lean that\u003cbr\u003estarvation had stared him in the face. The sordid side was the more\u003cbr\u003epainful, agonising, because Ralph had known the luxury of a refined\u003cbr\u003ehome, and was an old public schoolboy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMore than once he had fallen very low indeed--in moments of despair\u003cbr\u003enothing seemed to matter. But he could not quite crush self-respect\u003cbr\u003eand the feeling that he was born to better things. Nor had he ever\u003cbr\u003ecrossed the borderland from which no traveller can return unscathed.\u003cbr\u003eHe was wildly, even hysterically, glad of it when he had realised\u003cbr\u003ewhat the wand of fortune had done for him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe stood up in the pride of his six feet of splendid manhood, his\u003cbr\u003epassionate brown eyes bedewed with moisture. The spirit of the\u003cbr\u003eathlete still burned within him. And here--almost incredible though\u003cbr\u003eit was--was the chance that he had dreamt of.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe might wake presently and find he had been dreaming. But the fine\u003cbr\u003eold house was real enough; so were the Elizabethan furniture, the\u003cbr\u003epictures and the plate, the glorious gardens and the park with the\u003cbr\u003ehistoric oaks beyond. And all this was Ralph's, with a good eight\u003cbr\u003ethousand pounds a year to dress the part.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow had it all come about? Well, the thing was simple. Every day one\u003cbr\u003ehears stories of large fortunes left to comparative beggars, and\u003cbr\u003eRalph's was a case in point. Abbey Close had belonged to a literary\u003cbr\u003emisanthrope, who knew nobody and boasted that he had not a single\u003cbr\u003erelation in the world. He sneered at everything sentimental, and yet\u003cbr\u003ehis very loneliness was the outcome of an unrequited attachment years\u003cbr\u003ebefore. And one day there came in his way a short poem of Ralph's\u003cbr\u003ewhich touched a hidden chord. Ralph had written it from his heart\u003cbr\u003eafter some mad dissipation. But the owner of Abbey Close did not know\u003cbr\u003ethat, and thought he recognised a kindred spirit. It would be fine to\u003cbr\u003eleave all his money and property to the writer of that poem. The\u003cbr\u003ething was done. Doubtless it would have been undone again in a\u003cbr\u003efortnight, had not a sharp attack of pneumonia cut Mr. Ripley off,\u003cbr\u003eand Ralph, to his astonishment, found himself in possession of the\u003cbr\u003eClose. Strange things had happened before to-day.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo here it was all for Ralph to do as he liked with. At that\u003cbr\u003eparticular moment no selfish thoughts were occupying his attention.\u003cbr\u003eHe was thinking of Enid Charteris. It was a curious coincidence that\u003cbr\u003eCharteris Park, the seat of Sir Charles Charteris, Enid's father,\u003cbr\u003eshould be situated not four miles from Abbey Close. And Ralph had\u003cbr\u003eadored her ever since the night when he had met the girl at a\u003cbr\u003ereception in Grosvenor-square. Pretty low as he had fallen, there\u003cbr\u003ewere times when Ralph accepted the invitations of his father's old\u003cbr\u003efriends, and was tempted to \"revisit the pale glimpses of the moon.\"\u003cbr\u003eHow well he recalled the glorious July night now.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47152662380784,"sku":"2940013763005","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013763005_p0.jpg?v=1763589946","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013763005","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}