parlour

The Lost PaintingBy Jonathan Harr Not all of us have lost paintings by Caravaggio in our parlour.

The wind is howling, and the rain is pelting against the parlour windows of the Banking-house, whose blinds are drawn close down.

He just got a good holt–a shore enough diamond hitch–on that thirst-parlour dawg, and chawed.

On his return he introduced them on the Midland, both the parlour car and the sleeper.

Like the cobbler's stall in the old song, it served the present occupants for "kitchen and parlour and all."

But English suburban parlour-maids are on their guard against smiles, no matter how engaging.