Love at the Loom — page 259: what you’re looking at

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

Soy th. : Rare, Ls egeenelenha aay aa eee way: hi Sige Sie, te ort pee wie Roe we? a ike Me ue | RAT vee Dee . e =a cash ras 6 ie Me i Sp ines rok eee 58 im es fans Re Nee oer, ae i>, ee, ,°4 Se . 1 De, Si oR ewe +. «¥en - *- * : aoe mel is y doat 5a Y niet 2 | - - 3 ee ote" a y te SL ee aes F CF 2 regs ee wee ae : f s 5 haat o 2 ge oT An Awful Moment, st rp oe Fe Je ‘ a hands, and resigning herself to her fate, because hor- | ror seemed to paralyze her limbs. _ The horrid laugh of hate and fiendish joy that broke © from the lips of Mildred made the blood run rt col¢ m the veins of her hearer. 33 “T ask for no mercy,” she cried. “I have prayed for this hour to come, and now I shall be content with the future. I gloat in anticipation over the hour when ‘Donald shall look upon your scarred face, when he shall know that you have become the bride of one of the vilest of the vile. Ah! this is a vengeance bch of the cause. : : “Spare you! pity you! why, every scream of agony that passes your lips will be music to my ears, and your wild writhings of pain will make my eyes rejoice. Did you not come between me and my love? But for the face whose beauty I shall destroy forever, would he not now be my faithful lover? “And now prepare to feel the fiery vitriol eating its ‘way to the very bone. Prepare for an agony of mind and body such as is known to but few. Realize on earth the torments of the damned !” _ With a wild, gurgling cry of hate, as if her HHiroat | refused to longer serve her horrid purpose of vitupera- tion, Mildred snatched the little hands from the beauti- ful face, and held the bottle over the doomed bn which gazed in silent horror OR Wad. See ea eccom fe i