The Angel of the Revolution
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The opening
CHAPTER I. AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR.
AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR.
“Victory! It flies! I am master of the Powers of the Air at last!”
They were strange words to be uttered, as they were, by a pale, haggard, half-starved looking young fellow in a dingy, comfortless room on the top floor of a South London tenement-house; and yet there was a triumphant ring in his voice, and a clear, bright flush on his thin cheeks that spoke at least for his own absolute belief in their truth.
Let us see how far he was justified in that belief.
The whole book is in the Sphinx app.
About this edition
- The words
- The author's text, copied word for word.
- Copied from
- Left out
- The source library's header, footer and license
- The title page and opening pages before chapter 1, in 2 places
- The printed table of contents (the app makes its own)
- Page numbers and running heads from the printed pages
- Pictures and their captions
- Notes and pages added by translators, editors or publishers