The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

60 THE COURT OF LONDON slumber which she had enjoyed, and invigorated by the food and wine of which she had just partaken. Well fitted, then, was she for the proceedings which she proposed to undertake, but the state of her mind was very far removed from aught at all bordering upon happiness. True, she was released from the one tremendous source of alarm that for a year past had ever been menacingly imminent, namely, the tragedy of the bathroom at the Blackheath villa. But though thus relieved from a sense of danger on that head, was she not now crushed, as it were, by the consciousness of so awful a degradation that, depraved and unprincipled though she were, it was impossible for her to remain callous to that? No, she indeed felt that she was polluted beyond all purification, that she was as loathsome an object in her’ own esteem as if she had been dragged through the ordeal of all the lowest stews and filthiest brothels with which the metropolis abounds; and if the thought of her beauty now arose in her mind, it was only to make her shudder at the revolting recollection that every charm had been in the possession of the common hangman. Awful and hideous recollection, astounding idea, crucifying thought, enough to stun her senses with dismay, or else goad them to a rabid frenzy! She was in the midst of resuming her apparel when her ear suddenly caught the sound of some one turning the handle of the door, and she fancied that the maid was coming back, probably to say that the Marquis of Leveson had returned. But quickly did the door open, a form passed as rapidly in, and as the door closed again and the key turned in the lock, a horrible groan came from Ernestina’s tongue, and she sank down upon her knees in the presence of the Hangman. ‘“ Ah! the tables are turned now,” he said, in a tone of diabolic ferocity, while his hideous countenance glared upon the unhappy woman as if every lineament were menacing of murder. ‘““O God!” she said, clasping her hands in utter despair, and feeling as if the cold hand of death were already upon her. ‘“ Ah! food, wine!’ ejaculated the Hangman, suddenly catching sight of the tray upon a table close by the bed. ‘“ Just what I want! ’’ and he was bounding with the rabid eagerness of famine toward the refreshments when, swift COMmniclooo® S (C@ im