Her Faithful Knight — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XVIII. THE TRUTH AT LAST. The train began to move slowly out of the station. Darcy left the window, and, throwing himself into a corner seat, glanced across at Dorothy. Her features looked white and hard, as though carved in stone, and her distended eyes were fixed upon his face. He took off his hat and busied himself placing it in the rack. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow and upper lip, which had become suddenly moist. “TI am sorry, my dear one,” he began, “that our tour should have started with so unpleasant an incident as that dreadful little painted person, whom I need hardly tell you I have never seen before, should mistake me for Sergius Trevelyan. I suppose she detected in him some slight resemblance to my mother’s family. I remember the agent Whitlock thought I was rather like the fellow when I first called at his office.” Dorothy did not speak, although he paused as if expect- ing her to do so. She remained staring at him in just the same attitude as before, with her hands tightly clasped in her lap. “It was odd that she should make a mistake about you, too,’ he went on presently. “I should not have thought from your portraits that you and your sister were so much alike as all that. But I should say Miss Mount- Graham, or whatever she called herself, had been lunching too freely; don’t you think so, too?” Still no answer. His face grew wet again, and his EComicboo “S (S@)