Table Mountain

A sepia photo shows him as a young boy, head in his hands, with a large book open at a bar table.

That means any response that could result in physical damage inside North Korea is off the table.

Old Mrs. Wurzel and the buxom but not too well-favoured heiress of the house of Grains were at the head of the table.

A small book, bound in full purple calf, lay half hidden in a nest of fine tissue paper on the dressing-table.

There were at least a dozen ladies seated round the big table at the Parsonage.

We had now approached closely to the foot of the mountain-ranges, and their lofty summits were high above us in mid-air.

Miss Smith immediately rises from the table, puts up her dear little mouth to her papa to be kissed.