2006, ISBN: 9780868408446

Edition reliée

Sopena, 1944, Buenos Aires. . 23x14. 186 pgs. Hojas quebradizas. Leves faltas en el lomo y esquina superior derecha, afectado a las 70 primeras pásginas. (J6199), 0, Austral nº693, 1947,… Plus…

Sopena, 1944, Buenos Aires. . 23x14. 186 pgs. Hojas quebradizas. Leves faltas en el lomo y esquina superior derecha, afectado a las 70 primeras pásginas. (J6199), 0, Austral nº693, 1947, Buenos Aires. 1ª edición. en la colección. . 18x12. Sobrecubierta con falta en su parte superior. 153 pgs. (S3078), 0, Editorial Atlántida, Colección Libro Elegido, 1977, Buenos Aires.. 21x14. 568 pgs. Ilustraciones en b/n. Mancha de humedad en cubierta y corte superior afectando al margen superior de algunas páginas. 638794, 0, EUDEBA, Serie del Nuevo Mundo nº 3, 1963, Buenos Aires.. 18x11. 142 pgs. Papel en tono ligeramente tostado. Resto de mancha de humedad en canto superior. 647555, 0, Salvat, Colección Surco, 1949, Buenos Aires.. 19x13. 143 pgs. Pequeñas faltas en la esquina superior derecha y tapa trasera. (X4758), 0, Austral nº1193, 1954, Buenos Aires.. 18x12. Con sobrecubierta 147 pgs. Amplia falta en la esquina superior derecha de la sobrecubierta (Q8611), 0, Ediciones Dronte, Colección Nueva Dimensión nº 3, 1976, Buenos Aires.. 18x11. Tapa blanda. 160 pgs. Canto amarillento. Roce en la parte superior del lomo. 689127, 0, Valenciana, 1970. Aceptable. buen estado general aunque aviejado y roto lado superior del lomo, no afecta al dibujo, Valenciana, 1970, 0, Espasa Calpe, Colección Austral, 1940, Buenos Aires.. 18x12. 199 pgs. Papel amarronado. Pequeña falta en la parte superior del lomo. 593863, 0, Editorial Kapelusz, Biblioteca de Cultura Pedagógica nº 127, 1973, Buenos Aires. Primera edición.. 23x16. 271 pgs. Numerosas fotos en b/n. Puntos de óxido en corte superior. 627780, 0, Editorial Atlántida, Colección Libro Elegido, 1977, Buenos Aires,. 21x14. Guardas ilustradas. Faltas en la cubierta y corte superior. Mancha amarillenta en algunas páginas interiores no afectando a la lectura. 625692, 0, Buenos Aires - Barcelona - México, D. F. - Bogotá - Rio de Janeiro: Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1965. Encuadernación en tapa dura símil piel con grabados dorados y cinta de lectura. Papel biblia y corte superior dorado. 18x13cm. Interior en muy buen estado. Cubierta delantera con pequeña rotura, Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1965, 0, Buenos Aires - Barcelona - México, D. F. - Bogotá - Rio de Janeiro: Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1964. 2ª edición. Encuadernación en tapa dura símil piel con grabados dorados y cinta de lectura. Papel biblia y corte superior dorado. 18x13,5cm. Interior en muy buen estado. Cubierta delantera con pequeña rotura, Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1964, 0, Buenos Aires - Barcelona - México, D. F. - Bogotá - Rio de Janeiro: Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1964. Encuadernación en tapa dura símil piel con grabados dorados y cinta de lectura. Papel biblia y corte superior dorado. 18x13cm. Interior en muy buen estado. Cubierta delantera rota, Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1964, 0, Buenos Aires - Barcelona - México, D. F. - Bogotá - Rio de Janeiro: Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1965. Encuadernación en tapa dura símil piel con grabados dorados y cinta de lectura. Papel biblia y corte superior dorado. 18,3x13,2cm. Interior en muy buen estado. Cubierta delantera ligeramente rota, Plaza & Janés, S. A., Editores, 1965, 0, Octavo softcover (VG-); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book may reduce your overall postage costs, 0, Minotaur Books. Very Good. 5.82 x 1.04 x 8.74 inches. Hardcover. 2005. 304 pages. <br>In the South, the past can never be forgotten . . . or forgiven. When Alain Darnay suddenly reappears on Hilton He ad, Bay Tanner believes she and her former lover can finally sett le into something resembling a normal life. But her tenuous peace is shattered by an innocent-looking boy with cold blue eyes who will force her to relive the nightmare of her husband's murder, t o face that terrifying summer of treachery, deceit, and death. C art Anderson, a recently orphaned teenager burning with resentmen t, wants to know how and why his father, Geoffrey, died, and he's convinced Bay has the answers. But shortly after a confrontation with her in the parking lot of a glitzy resort hotel, the boy di sappears. His empty car is found splattered with blood at an aban doned fort on nearby St. Helena Island, and suddenly Bay and her lover find themselves the chief suspects. When retired New York h omicide detective Ben Wyler enters the case, the web of circumsta ntial evidence against them begins to pile up. But what does the ancient black woman, whose ramshackle cottage sits next to the o ld fort, know about the boy's disappearance? And why is the entir e county so willing to believe Bay is guilty? Enlisting the aid o f her former partner, Erik Whiteside, and an ambitious local repo rter, Bay begins to unravel a plot so intricate, so devious, it c ould shatter not only her own life but those of everyone she hold s dear. From the gated enclaves of the Southern aristocracy to the dusty, echoing passageways of an abandoned fort, from the sec ret vaults of an offshore bank to the twisted mind of a vengeful child, Resurrection Road speeds to a deadly confrontation that wi ll alter Bay Tanner's world forever. Editorial Reviews From Pu blishers Weekly In Wall's fifth book to feature tough, determined and thoroughly modern Bay Tanner (after 2004's Judas Island), th e widowed South Carolina accountant has basically disbanded her n ascent detective agency, while her relationship with sexy Frenchm an Alain Darnay seems headed in the right direction. But Bay's pa st comes back to haunt her after young Carter Anderson, who blame s her for his dad's death, confronts her (I want to know why you killed my father). When Carter goes missing, Bay and Darnay becom e suspects in the boy's disappearance. Wall paints an almost Kafk aesque scenario as a new detective, a recently appointed judge an d a web of evidence, circumstantial or manufactured, begin to box Bay into a corner. For once the powerful connections of Bay's la wyer father are of little help. Wall manages to imbue the vestige s of the old South with only a tinge of regret and yet still milk s the romantic ambience effectively. Bay's resourcefulness and co urage are again tested fully as fans have come to expect in this increasingly popular series. Agent, Amy Rennert. Regional author tour. (May 9) Copyright ® Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Booklist Bay Tan ner and her lover, Alain Darnay, are being shadowed by young Cart Anderson, who believes Darnay killed Cart's father. When the boy disappears, and his abandoned car is found with bloodstains on t he front seat, Bay and Darnay are the chief suspects. Then an eld erly acquaintance is found murdered the day after Bay and Darnay visit her. As the circumstantial evidence mounts against them, Ba y finds herself alone as Darnay vanishes, leaving her heartbroken and confused. The insidious net of conspiracy weaves itself arou nd her, and Bay must solve the crimes to protect herself and thos e closest to her. Plot twists, fast pacing, and the oppressive he at of a Low Country summer provide a satisfying frame for the lik able Bay's fifth adventure, as she revives her almost defunct det ective agency, Simpson & Tanner, Inquiry Agents. Sue O'Brien Copy right © American Library Association. All rights reserved Review Resurrection Road should be part of your carry-on baggage on you r next trip. --Chicago Tribune Wall has succeeded in creating wh at every mystery writer must dream of-a complex, utterly likeable protagonist whom readers want to spend time with again and again .-Lowcountry Weekly This newest Bay Tanner outing is quite handi ly Wall's best. For starters, it takes off at a brisk pace, build ing up to 'here's your ticket, ma'am' speed by the final third of the novel.-The State With her strong characters, tight narrativ e, and smart plotting, Wall shouldn't have to worry about having a short career as a writer. But perhaps the most noticeable part of her fiction is the lush, rich settings provided by setting her novels in an area of the country she's come to know quite well-t he Lowcountry of South Carolina.-The Beaufort Gazette This fast- paced mystery trumps everything else in Wall's already impressive series. The action charges right out of the gate and never slows down. Of course, while her plots are patently thrilling, Wall ha s always hung her hat on her ability to bring the Lowcountry to b reathtaking life. Interwoven through the tight plot are Wall's in comparable descriptions of Beaufort, Bluffton, and Hilton Head. T he locales may be familiar, but the author describes in such a wa y that even long-time islanders will see their home in a new ligh t...remarkable...a truly gifted mystery writer. -Hilton Head Mont hly Review About the Author Kathryn R. Wall practiced accounting for twenty-five years in Ohio before retiring with her husband t o Hilton Head, South Carolina. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permissio n. All rights reserved. Resurrection Road Chapter OneYou're not g etting involved with those people again, and that's final!I punct uated the shout by ripping the ball cross-court, a stinging backh and that should have left him staring in admiration as it whizzed by. Instead he dived to his left, just managed to get a racket o n it, and popped up a lazy floater that nicked the tape and dribb led over to land six inches beyond my side of the net.Game! he sh outed, pumping his tanned fist in the air. And set!He dropped to his knees and raised his face and arms skyward, like Pete Sampras at Wimbledon. The group next to us interrupted their doubles gam e to grin at his antics, and one of the two lanky women waiting f or our court applauded.I flashed him a reluctant smile and trotte d over to gather our gear from beside the net post. I'd be ashame d to take that point if I were you, I said, slinging a towel arou nd my neck and swiping at the strands of sweat-soaked hair escapi ng from my ponytail.Bay Tanner, I would never have expected you t o be such a bad loser.Alain Darnay, I'd never have expected you t o be such a cocky winner.I was also pretty amazed at how well his recovery was coming along. Less than a year before, I had worked frantically to staunch the blood pouring from a gaping bullet wo und in his left side. A scant two months ago he had still looked thin and frail as he glowered from the curb in front of the Paris apartment at the taxi whisking me off to Orly Airport and home. It seemed I had been wrong. Returning to his dangerous work with Interpol hadn't jeopardized his health--it had apparently restore d it.We'll discuss it, ma petite, he said, mopping his streaming face.It took me a moment to realize he was referring to my outbur st just before the end of the match. LeBrun, his superior at Inte rpol, had sent another coded fax just that morning, one in a long stream of communications which had kept the international phone lines buzzing for the past week or so. I didn't need to decipher its contents to know Darnay's employers were angling once again t o get him back in their deadly game.Damn right we will, I said, s oftening the words with a smile.We slid our rackets into their ca rrying cases, and Darnay hefted the double-handled tennis bag. He flung an arm across my shoulder, being careful to avoid the tend er area where my own recent wound had still not completely healed .What a pair we are, I thought. When we get old, we can sit aroun d and compare battle scars.He nodded to the two women who had mov ed onto the court behind us. Enjoy your game, ladies, he said in a thick French accent that made even the most mundane comments so und like a lover's caress.Quit flirting, I said good-naturedly an d received a Gallic shrug from the tall, craggy Frenchman who onl y that morning had asked me to marry him--for the fourteenth time , if my scorekeeping could be trusted. If he wasn't careful, I th ought, I'd begin to take the offers seriously.What can I say, my darling? It is the nature of the beast. Bred into the bones, abso rbed from the mother's milk, inhaled with the bouquet of the wine s ...I punched him playfully in the arm with my free hand.As we a pproached the canopy of live oaks under which we'd left the Thund erbird, Darnay tossed the bag into the rear seat. Turning his bac k on the parking lot, he leaned casually against the creamy yello w fender of my new convertible. His face had lost its bantering l ook, and his normally soft eyes had darkened to the steely blue w hich usually signaled anger.Keep smiling, he said, ignoring his o wn dictum, and glance over my right shoulder.I faltered a little, startled by the tone of his voice.Smile, he repeated, and I did my best to comply.What am I looking at?He reached out to slip an errant strand of auburn hair behind my ear. Black Mercedes sedan at the end of the row. Young man. Dark skin, longish blond hair. Navy blue polo shirt.I leaned in to kiss him gently on the cheek and whispered, Got him. So what's the problem?Another woman might have asked more questions, been more suspicious of Darnay's sudd en change of mood and urgent commands. In the two years since I'd watched my husband's plane explode in a shower of flaming debris and dismembered bodies, I'd experienced enough danger to recogni ze its reflection in someone else's eyes.Do you know him? Darnay nuzzled my ear, momentarily making me lose track of the conversat ion.Uh, no. No, I don't think so. Why?Give me the keys and get in , he said.For a moment I balked. Taking orders is absolutely alie n to both my nature and inclination. But Darnay's glare didn't wa ver, so I strolled around to the passenger side and slid into the sun-warmed leather seat. Without turning my head, I managed to g et another glimpse of the object of his interest.Definitely young . Expensive-looking wraparound shades. Maybe Latino.Smile, I hear d again from the other side of the car, so I threw back my head a nd laughed, a sound so artificial it wouldn't have fooled anyone within hearing distance. Hopefully I looked the picture of carefr ee, fortyish Southern womanhood: rich and idle, without a problem in the world. I carried on with the charade until Darnay backed the car around and headed us out of the small tennis complex tuck ed up to one of the three golf courses in Port Royal Plantation.W hat the hell was that all about? I demanded as we pulled onto For t Walker Drive. The sweet gums and towering pines cast a welcome shade over the sleek hood of the convertible.He's following us. A lain Darnay, Interpol agent and former top investigator for the S ûreté in Paris, barely flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror. N o, don't look! he barked when I began to turn in my seat.You're s eriously ticking me off, I said in a voice he should have been al l too familiar with. Our on-again, off-again romance had been mor e off than on recently, due primarily to the demands of his profe ssion. And so what if he's behind us? I added, glancing at the fi rm set of his wide mouth and the slight dimple that bisected his otherwise strong chin.This is the third time he's turned up in th e last couple of days, Alain remarked, his tone so conversational we might have been discussing last night's Braves game or the ti me of the next high tide. I do not like coincidences.I don't eith er. But Hilton Head is an island, after all, and a small one. Eve n with all the summer tourists here, it wouldn't be that farfetch ed to run across the same person a couple of times. Especially if he's staying at the Westin or renting one of the condos at the B arony.And you believe he just happened to be at the restaurant la st night? And at the bookstore this morning?His questions brought me up short. I'd been so intent the previous evening on deflecti ng Darnay's thirteenth marriage proposal over candlelight and cha mpagne at Conroy's that I'd been pretty much oblivious to my surr oundings. He, however, had been captivated by the works of our lo cal literary icon for whom the swanky dining room of the Marriott Hotel had been named. It had been Darnay who insisted on running out the next morning to fill in the gaps in my collection of the works of Pat Conroy. Engrossed in my quest through the aisles of Barnes & Noble, I'd failed to notice a familiar face.I'm sorry. I didn't realize.His smile accepted my apology.So what do you thi nk it's all about? I asked.It couldn't have anything to do with t he fledgling inquiry agency my father and I had established. We h ad been floundering since the defection of one of our founding me mbers, Erik Whiteside. The last thing remotely resembling a case had been wrapped up months before, its only lingering remnant evi denced by the stiffness that still plagued my injured left should er. Having been mangled by the exploding debris of my late husban d's plane, then battered again by a through-and-through bullet wo und, by rights the shoulder should not have been functioning at a ll. I applied creams to soothe the shiny skin grafts, exercised t he stiff joint every chance I got, and tried not to think about i t.He was watching us play tennis, then hurried back to his car wh ile we were packing up, Darnay finally answered. Nice-looking, cl ean-cut, maybe five-eight or nine. You sure you don't recognize h im?Positive, I said as we took a left just before the overpass th at led to the security gate.The road to my beach house skirted on e of the golf courses, winding its way to the ocean past sprawlin g Lowcountry homes nestled among stands of live oaks and screenin g shrubbery.Glance back now and see if he followed us, Darnay com manded.I turned casually, as if surveying the scenery, just in ti me to see the black car disappear over the bridge and glide on to ward the gate. Nope, he kept going.My relief proved short-lived a s my companion suddenly whipped the car into a, Minotaur Books, 2005, 3, Penguin Classics. Very Good. 5.22 x 1.13 x 7.82 inches. Paperback. 2003. 656 pages. <br>When Isabel Archer, a beautiful, spirited American , is brought to Europe by her wealthy Aunt Touchett, it is expect ed that she will soon marry. But Isabel, resolved to determine he r own fate, does not hesitate to turn down two eligible suitors. She then finds herself irresistibly drawn to Gilbert Osmond, who, beneath his veneer of charm and cultivation, is cruelty itself. A story of intense poignancy, Isabel's tale of love and betrayal still resonates with modern audiences. Editorial Reviews About the Author Henry James (1843-1916), born in New York and eventual ly settling in England, wrote some twenty novels, many short stor ies, and a staggering number of letters. Geoffrey Moore was gener al editor for the works of Henry James in Penguin Classics. He di ed in 1999. Patricia Crick, one-time scholar of Girton College, C ambridge, is a teacher of modern languages. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Isabel saw no more of her a ttributive victim for the next twenty-four hours, but on the seco nd day after the visit to the opera she encountered him in the ga llery of the Capitol, where he stood before the lion of the colle ction, the statue of the Dying Gladiator. She had come in with he r companions, among whom, on this occasion again, Gilbert Osmond had his place, and the party, having ascended the staircase, ente red the first and finest of the rooms. Lord Warburton addressed h er alertly enough, but said in a moment that he was leaving the g allery. 'And I'm leaving Rome,' he added. 'I must bid you goodbye .' Isabel, inconsequently enough, was now sorry to hear it. This was perhaps because she had ceased to be afraid of his renewing h is suit; she was thinking of something else. She was on the point of naming her regret but she checked herself and simply wished h im a happy journey; which made him look at her rather unlightedly . 'I'm afraid you'll think me very volatile. I told you the other day I wanted so much to stop.' 'Oh no; you can easily change yo ur mind.' 'That's what I have dome.' 'Bon voyage then.' 'You'r e in a great hurry to get rid of me,' said his lordship quite dis mally. 'Not in the least. But I hate partings.' 'You don't care what I do,' he went on pitifully. Isabel looked at him a moment . 'Ah,' she said, 'you're not keeping your promise!' He coloured like a boy of fifteen. 'If I'm not, then it's because I can't; a nd that's why I'm going.' 'Good-bye then.' 'Good-bye.' He linge red still, however. 'When shall I see you again?' Isabel hesitat ed, but soon, as if she had had a happy inspiration: 'Some day af ter you're married.' 'That will never be. It will be after you a re.' 'That will do as well,' she smiled. 'Yes, quite as well. G ood-bye.' They shook hands, and he left her alone in the gloriou s room, among the shining antique marbles. She sat down in the ce ntre of the circle of these presences, regarding them vaguely, re sting her eyes on the beautiful blank faces; listening, as it wer e, to their eternal silence. It is impossible, in Rome at least, to look long at a great company of Greek sculptures without feeli ng the effect of their noble quietude; which, as with a high door closed for the ceremony, slowly drops on the spirit the large wh ite mantle of peace. I say in Rome especially, because the Roman air is exquisite medium for such impressions. The golden sunshine mingles with them the deep stillness of the past, so vivid yet, though it is nothing but a void full of names, seems to throw a s olemn spell upon them. The blinds were partly closed in the windo ws of the Capitol, and a clear, warm shadow rested on the figures and made them more mildly human. Isabel sat there a long time, u nder the charm of their motionless grace, wondering to what, of t heir experience, their absent eyes were open, and how, to our ear s, their alien lips would sound. The dark red walls of the room t hrew them into relief; the polished marble floor reflected their beauty. She had seen them all before, but her enjoyment repeated itself, and it was all the greater because she was glad again, fo r the time, to be alone. At last, however, her attention lapsed, drawn off by a deeper tide of life. An occasional tourist came in , stopped and stared a moment at the Dying Gladiator, and then pa ssed out of the door, creaking over the smooth pavement. At the e nd of half an hour Gilbert Osmond reappeared, apparently in advan ce of his companions. He strolled towards her slowly, with his ha nds behind him and his usual enquiring, yet not quite appealing s mile. 'I'm surprised to find you alone, I thought you had company .' 'So I have - the best.' And she glanced at the Antinous and t he Faun. 'Do you call them better company than an English peer?' 'Ah, my English peer left me some time ago.' She got up, speaki ng with intention a little dryly. Mr Osmond noted her dryness, w hich contributed for him to the interest of his question. 'I'm af raid that what I heard the other evening is true: you're rather c ruel to that nobleman.' Isabel looked a moment at the vanquished Gladiator. 'It's not true. I'm scrupulously kind.' 'That's exac tly what I mean!' Gilbert Osmond returned, and with such happy hi larity that his joke needs to be explained. We know that he was f ond of originals, of rarities, of the superior and the exquisite; and now that he had seen Lord Warburton, whom he thought a very fine example of his race and order, he perceived a new attraction in the idea of taking to himself a young lady who had qualified herself to figure in his collection of choice objects by declinin g so noble a hand. Chapter 28, p352-354 </div ., Penguin Classics, 2003, 3, Pan Books 1960. Paperback (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Pan Books 1960, 0, Penguin 1973. Paperback (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost., Penguin 1973, 0, Coronet / Hodder and Stoughton 1984. Paperback (VG-); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Coronet / Hodder and Stoughton 1984, 0, Penguin 1994. Octavo softcover (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Penguin 1994, 0, Ebury Press 2001. Paperback (VG+); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, Ebury Press 2001, 0, Fontana 1981. paperback (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, Fontana 1981, 0, sphere. paperback; all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, sphere, 0, Coronet 1984. Paperback (VG): all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, Coronet 1984, 0, Penguin Books 1994. Octavo softcover (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs, Penguin Books 1994, 0, Quartet 1974. paperback (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Quartet 1974, 0, duckworth. hardcover in dustwrapper (ex libris); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, duckworth, 0, Virago 1990. Softcover octavo (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Virago 1990, 0, Futura Publications Ltd 1974. Paperback (VG); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage cost, Futura Publications Ltd 1974, 0, Unwin Hyman 1987. Paperback (VG-); all our specials have minimal description to keep listing them viable. They are at least reading copies, complete and in reasonable condition, but usually secondhand; frequently they are superior examples. Ordering more than one book will reduce your overall postage costs., Unwin Hyman 1987, 0, University of New South Wales Press. Good. 155 x 235mm. Paperback. 2006. 358 pages. Text buckled.<br>In the long history of the British Ar my, the Battle of the Somme was its bloodiest encounter. Between July 1 and mid-November 1916, 432 000 of its soldiers became casu alties - about 3600 for every day of battle. German casualties we re far fewer despite British superiority in the air and in lethal artillery. What went wrong for the British, and who was responsi ble? This book will decisively change our understanding of the hi story of the Western Front. ., University of New South Wales Press, 2006, 2.5<