I have mentioned a lady's husband was taken away from her and eaten by a tiger lately, somewhere about this country, so we begin to feel quite in medias res, though far from the madding town.
"From Edinburgh to India & Burmah"
William G. Burn Murdoch
All night she was that res'les' talkin' of the beautiful hymn the man sung, an' beggin' him to sing it agen; an' then hearin' angels an' talkin' 'bout green fields an' flowers, an' where there do be no night.
"In Wild Rose Time"
Amanda M. Douglas
This was, however, a rare pleasure, for every morning for at least three or four hours I was obliged to sit opposite the colonel, engaged in the compilation of that narrative of his "res gestae," which was to eclipse the career of Napoleon and leave Wellington's laurels but a very faded lustre in comparison.
"The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer, Complete"
Charles James Lever (1806-1872)