I looked up the song and I guess the second verse that Maria leaves out talks about romantic suitors indicating that Maria chooses not draw attention to her loneliness.

Joyce's again includes a male character of significance who drinks heavily.

This is an Irish sweet bread with raisins.

The pace of this intro paragraph is very fast. Not only is a lot of information given about the characters and their relationship, the sentences are fairly short and unvaried.

Vidocq was a French criminal who became a detective. He is thought to have shaped early criminology. The deceased priest owned a historical novel, a spiritual guidebook, and a reformed criminal's autobiography. Knowing that Joyce was a lapsed Catholic, I wonder if these book titles (which are not all godly) were included to show that even priests do not always think only of God.

This is a spiritual work of non-fiction written by an English Franciscan monk. When I Googled it, Joyce's story popped up first.

This sentence is similar to the mention of a gaze in "the Sisters" where the narrator gazes at Father Flynn's window and then the narrator is subject to his uncle's gaze. It seems that Joyce focuses on windows and seeing.

Maybe the narrator sees some truth in what Cotter was saying about Father Flynn and is either trying to confront that or brush it off.

There's an interesting contrast here between this story and the other Mansfield stories we've read. Pathetic fallacy is often used by the author as a device wherein the weather seems to reflect the characters' mood. In this passage, the weather clashes with how Mr. Neave is feeling.

I looked up this custom because I'd never heard of it before and apparently a "dance card" allows ball guests to write down the names of all the people they'll dance with before the ball has begun. I guess it ensures that people get to mingle more and finding a partner is easier.

Mansfield masterfully describes a chaotic scene of excitement by drawing on different senses: touch ("pressed"), sound ("noise), sight ("quivering coloured flags").

This echoes the "waltzing lamp-posts and houses" etc. from the first paragraph. Clearly, dancing is on Leila's mind.

The window here is a barrier through which William rudely observes a child and a worker, both then of a lower social status than himself, while they cannot focus in particular on him.

I feel like a switch occurred where at the beginning it's unclear why William did not bring back gifts for his children, hinting at possible financial difficulties. Now, we see that his family is actually well off and seems to come from old wealth.

It's strange that we've been led to believe that the narrator was speaking in first person up to this point. Mrs. Raddick's daughter hasn't even been given a name yet. Now it feels as though an additional presence has been included and our proximity to the story is closer.

Interesting dynamic between mother and daughter from the outset. Mrs. Raddick is admiring her daughter's beauty and speaking to her timidly and kindly while her daughter is impatient and impertinent.

This indicates that a sad event occurred before we are introduced to these characters and sets our expectations about the tone of the story.

Because of the similarities between the beginnings of the two Mansfield stories (in medias res, third person narration), I half-expected there to be a long exposition and maybe the introduction of human-like animal characters. However, we are given a human character almost immediately.

It's unclear here because of the word choice whether the cat is really anthropomorphized since she appears to speak or if it is as though she is speaking/thinking human-like thoughts ("SEEMED to give a... shiver").

Like Collins in "the Moonstone", Mansfield makes use of pathetic fallacy here. The weather seems to reflect human emotion.

A motive!

I think announcing answers builds suspense and pushes the reader forward.

This need for sympathy and companionship to me feels like an echo from earlier great European works such as Frankenstein's Monster and the Sorrows of Young Werther. It's interesting to see some potential influence of other novels when this novel was so innovative.

Opium, brandy, laudanum... I wonder how common medicating in this way was at this time.

I wonder what computational methods we could use to analyze the written documents. We could examine things like style, syntax, and form, but I wonder what other options there are.

I'd love to see how the big reveal happens, whether the police solve the case, or Franklin does, or the thief turns themselves in etc.

Though the ages of the Indian men play a role in this story, the men are otherwise not characterized in any real way. Their ethnicity is emphasized as a way to exoticize them and make them seem dangerous and mysterious.

The plot thickens! Is it possible that Luker was in possession of the diamond?

It's interesting to see how the different narrators characterize themselves. Here, Miss Clack describes herself in a self-righteous and almost self-pitying tone. The narrators' descriptions shape lenses through which the reader understands events.

I like that forensics plays a role in solving the mystery. I looked online to see how far along the science was during the time this novel (1868) was written, and apparently it really began taking off in the 19th century, especially with the Jack the Ripper investigation (1888) and was, of course, a salient feature of Sherlock Holmes' detective work.

This could be a device known as pathetic fallacy in which the mood of the characters is mirrored by the weather. It contributes to an ominous and eerie feel.

The significance of this site was foreshadowed in the reader's first encounter with Rosanna. I'm curious to see what goes down here.

A love subplot also commonly appears in detective stories where one person is often manipulated by another.

I've noticed the pace of the action is very fast and all the characters are pretty well-defined. The story's a page-turner.

I have to point out this typical feature of a detective story; Betteredge records a witness statement in which it is unclear what has actually transpired, but the uncertainty adds to the mystery!

I've read this chapter and am going back to annotate. A dinner party with colorful guests (a jokester, an ominous type etc.) is typical of a detective story and I was anticipating a discussion of the mystery surrounding the moonstone.

The narrator here introduces another mysterious item, like the moonstone, which will (I'm guessing) prove significant. I'm beginning to see how this is similar to a typical detective story!

I'm still getting the impression that the narrator is desperate in wanting the reader to believe he is to be trusted. So far, he has described himself only as good (here against the backdrop of his unruly compatriots.)

The narrator further emphasizes their professed reliability by offering a lot of background. It feels like the story is being told by someone on trial. They totally remove themselves from the history of the moonstone until the next chapter.