summer-house

• “The palace was a city in itself, and we were lodged in a sort of summer-house that stood apart.”

  Chapter 15

• “In particular, his reflections on completing the twenty-year project are poignant: It was on the night of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last line of the last page in a summer-house in my garden.”

  2009 books poll

• “I must conceal our packages in the summer-house, and tomorrow night, when the frenzy was at its customary height, we'd foregather at midnight by the back gate and be off.”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “There was a little summer-house hidden deep in the pines near the back gate, and when occasion offered she and I would repair to it for field exercises; since I was preparing to bid Susie adieu I didn't heed the risk, but Cleonie's eagerness astonished me.”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “Next day I bought a very pretty Arab gelding for myself, and a mule for Cleonie, left them in a livery stable south of the Plaza, and busied myself for the rest of the day with the final arrangements; by late afternoon I had our packages stowed in the summer-house, along with my rifle and six-shooter.”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “I picked up my gear from the summer-house when he'd gone, and went quickly down through the crowded Plaza to the livery stable, where I slung my few traps over the mule, stowed the heavy purse of eagles in my money-belt, and rode out on the Albuquerque trail.”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “It was a slow night in the gaming-room, but all hands to the pumps in the bedrooms by the sound of it; at a few minutes to twelve I got up and sauntered through the grounds to the summer-house, and for some reason my heart was beating fifty to the dozen.”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “I discovered why one afternoon when everyone else was at siesta, and I was sitting meditating in the dim, stuffy little summer-house with Cleonie astride my lap going like a drunk jockey and humming "II etait une bergere"; when she'd panted her soul out, and I'd got a cheroot going, she suddenly says:”

  Fictionaut: Isabelle

• “At the far end is an old, tumble-down summer-house.”

  Fictionaut: The Seriously Deranged Writer and the Model Cars

• “There is an exit through a summer-house at the far end.”

  Fictionaut: The Seriously Deranged Writer and the Model Cars

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