Bonny Jean, and A Severe Threat — page 174: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A SHVERE THREAT. 167 The words were spoken in a low, sepulchral tone ; yet there was no other presence in the chamber—no human creature within sight. Sir John started to his feet, and glanced wildly about him. All his ruddy color vanished, and his face became suddenly pale. Geraldine confronted him calmly. Who had spoken she did not know, and at that moment she cared not ; she had somethingelse to think of than mysterious voices, even though they spoke the truth. ‘‘What was that?” faltered Sir John, in a startled tone. ‘*Who spoke ?” ‘“Your own guilty conscience, perhaps,” returned Geraldine, coldly. He turned and caught her gloved hand in. his own, and pressed it to his lips. Her face grew white as death, save for one lurid red spot which glowed angrily upon either cheek. She stripped the white glove from her hand and tore it into rib- bons ; then tossing the fragments upon the velvet carpet, she set one tiny foot upon them, ‘‘Dare to repeat that insult!” she panted, madly, des- perately—‘‘ dare to pollute me by the pressure of your lips and, so help me, Heaven, I will have your life! See Sir John Sydney !” ) She snatched from the marble toilet-table a tiny dagger; it had a keen sharp blade, and the hilt was incrusted with jewels. ‘‘What—what do you mean ?” faltered the baronet, in broken accents, cowering before her like a whipped cur. ‘‘ What are you going to do with that knife? Put it away, Geraldine ; it has an ugly look.” She faced him still, with her dark eyes scintillating, and the hand which held the weapon did not tremble. ‘‘ What am I going to do with it?” she repeated, slowly. ‘‘I am going to defend my honor, Sir John Sydney. If you pre- sume to venture one act of familiarity I shall plunge this knife into your heart, or my own, I do not care which. Did I not Gomicboo cS (ele) =)