"Escritoire" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... with pearl, were filled with chefs-d'[oe]uvres from the hands of masters, collected in the old world. They were locked; but through the glass doors I could gaze and admire, and make them all my own. An elegant escritoire was open on the table, the only thing with which I could associate the idea of utility. Yes, there was a harp, that seemed supported by a marble cherub,—a most magnificent instrument. I sighed to think ...
— Ernest Linwood - or, The Inner Life of the Author • Caroline Lee Hentz
... He seemed to be irritated about something, and asked me at once if I had any notes or gold I could let him have until next day. I was surprised at that, because he was never without money; he made it a rule to carry a hundred pounds or so about him always in a note-case. I unlocked my escritoire, and gave him all I had by me. It ...
— The Woman in Black • Edmund Clerihew Bentley
... Businesslike leather pouches stood in the hall, and an unwontedly large pile of letters lay on a table. The drawing-room was the same as ever, but in the dining-room an escritoire had been established which groaned under a burden of papers. Mr. Wishart puzzled and repelled him. It was a strong face, but a cold and a stupid one, and his eyes had the glassy hardness of the man without vision. He was bidden welcome, and thanked in a tactless way for his kindness ...
— The Half-Hearted • John Buchan
... rustling drapery startled me. Great heavens! this image, which seemed a moment before but a part of the solid wall, had moved and stood in the centre of the room. Slowly she raised her right arm, and with extended finger pointed to the old and faded escritoire. Mechanically my eyes took the direction toward which she pointed. I saw the doors of the cabinet tumble from their fastenings and fall to the floor with a startling crash, while her attitude commanded me, imperatively, to examine the recesses of this sepulchre of a long buried secret. I did so. ...
— Nick Baba's Last Drink and Other Sketches • George P. Goff
... face vanished as the door closed. Phadrig shut down the top of the big escritoire and locked it. Heavy treads sounded on the rickety stairs. There was a shuffle of feet on the little landing, a sharp knock at the door, and he said ...
— The Mummy and Miss Nitocris - A Phantasy of the Fourth Dimension • George Griffith
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