Brighton rock / compiled by Julia Swannell
| dc.contributor | Gilliver, Peter OUP Oxford Dictionaries |
| dc.contributor.author | Greene, Graham, 1904- |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2018-07-27 |
| dc.date.accessioned | 2022-08-21T16:18:47Z |
| dc.date.available | 2022-08-21T16:18:47Z |
| dc.date.created | 1938 |
| dc.date.issued | 1976-01-01 |
| dc.identifier | ota:0489 |
| dc.identifier.uri | http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/0489 |
| dc.description.abstract | In English Title from University of Oxford Text Archive records First published 1938 |
| dc.format.extent | Text data between 512 KB and 1 MB Contains markup characters offline |
| dc.format.medium | Digital bitstream |
| dc.language | English |
| dc.language.iso | eng |
| dc.publisher | University of Oxford |
| dc.relation.ispartof | Oxford Text Archive Legacy Collection |
| dc.rights | Although this resource has been deposited with us, it is not currently available for re-use by others. |
| dc.rights.uri | https://hdl.handle.net/20.500.14106/licence-ota |
| dc.rights.label | ACA |
| dc.subject.lcsh | Novels -- Great Britain -- 20th century |
| dc.subject.other | Novels |
| dc.title | Brighton rock / compiled by Julia Swannell |
| dc.type | Text |
| hidden | hidden |
| has.files | yes |
| branding | Oxford Text Archive |
| files.size | 488623 |
| files.count | 1 |
| otaterms.date.range | 1900-1999 |
Files for this item
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From: CBS%UK.AC.STRATHCLYDE.VAXE::CHZS01 16-DEC-1988 12:23:10.08 To: ARCHIVE CC: Subj: Brighton Rock Via: UK.AC.STRATHCLYDE.VAXE; Fri, 16 Dec 88 12:14 GMT Date: 16-DEC-1988 12:14:26 GMT From: CHZS01@UK.AC.STRATHCLYDE.VAXE To: ARCHIVE@UK.AC.OXFORD.VAX Subject: Brighton Rock Message-Id: <20A02628_000A11BC.0091D6B50810F9C0$9_1@UK.AC.STRATHCLYDE.VAXE> Originally-to: JANET%OXFORD.VAX::ARCHIVE,CHZS01 Mailer: Janet_Mailshr V3.0a (07-Jun-1988) <D 1938> [This ed. 1970 Bodley Head] <A. G. Greene> <T Brighton Rock> <S I> <C i> <P 1> Hale knew, before he had been in Brighton three hours, that they meant to murder him. With his inky fingers and his bitten nails, his manner cynical and nervous, anybody could tell he didn't belong -- belong to the early summer sun, the cool Whitsun wind off the sea, the holiday crowd. They came in by train from Victoria every five minutes, rocked down Queen's Road standing on the tops of the little local trams, stepped off in bewildered mul . . .
