His Other Wife: A Novel — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

A MORTAL COMBAT. 129 ish curves of Julian Vernois’ beautiful mouth as he watched the slight quiver of Faith’s drooped lids, and the change- ful color in her sweet young face. ‘“‘ How could I know you would dislike my touching your work? Moreover, I am not sure that I was con- scious of doing so. I suppose I was only obeying an impulse like that which makes one lift a flower to inhale its perfume, that one sense the more may be delighted, You can understand why I should love to touch any- thing over which those dainty, rose-tipped fingers have moved.” There was not much besides empty compliment in the words ; but, accompanied as they were by the low and tender modulation of voice that Vernois employed with such consummate art when it pleased him to throw a subtle meaning into trivial speech, they filled little Faith’s guileless heart with a fluttering sensation—half of pleasure, half of embarrassment. She moved uneasily and colored violently under the rain of fervid glances that played, like burning sunrays, over her from those practiced eyes, that had learned their occult art so well. Vernois made no effort to relieve her intense confusion, but sat watching her as a scientist might observe the effect of some curious experiment in the mix- ture of chemicals. ‘‘May I have the song you promised me this evening, Miss Hilary ?” It was Gordon Warren who asked the question. He (E(@) im =) Comicbooks: