The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 226: what you’re looking at

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

208 THE COURT OF LONDON I never more should be clasped in any arms but thine own! ”’ “Now tell me what you mean, Venetia,’’ said Horace. “Come, let there be confidence between us. I see that something is dwelling in your mind, and it will ease thee to disburden thyself to the ears of thy husband.” ‘“ Listen, then, my beloved Horace, and I will tell thee,’ said Venetia, in a low and stifling tone, as if her very thoughts were choking her ere she gave utterance to them. ‘“ But there, pillow thy head upon my bosom, with thy face downward, so that I may not meet thy looks while I proceed to unveil the secret cause that makes me shudder. It is,”’ she continued, in a low, deep, almost hollow tone, as if her voice had suddenly lost its wonted harmony, “ it is that I loathe, hate, and abhor that prince to whom I have been sold, — or, rather, to whom I have sold myself; it is that I detest the hypocrisy which compels me to smile upon him, to appear to receive his caresses joyfully, and to be com- pelled to lavish upon him the tenderest caresses in return. But worse, worse than all that,’”’ added Venetia, bending down her head so that her lips touched her husband’s ear as his own head reposed upon her bosom; then, in words that seemed to hiss as if coming from the mouth of a snake, she whispered, ‘‘ it is, Horace, that I would sooner submit to the hideous pawings of an imp than to the loathsome embraces of that filthy sensualist.”’ Horace started up, with a violent sob suddenly bursting from his breast; and beginning to pace the room in a manner fearfully excited, he exclaimed, ‘‘ O horror! that my own wife should be doomed to make such a revelation as this to my ears! Oh, that one whom I have loved so fondly, madly, devotedly, and whom I still love so well, should be con- signed to so hellish a fate, so damnable a destiny! But it is all my fault — my fault,” he repeated, striking his breast forcibly. ‘‘ It was I who could have saved her while she was as yet far off from the precipice; it was I who could have rescued her at the moment she was trembling above it. But, no, base villain that I was! I suffered her to fall.” ‘“Reproach not yourself, my dearest husband,’ mur- mured the well-known voice which had now regained all its wonted sweetness and characteristic melody, and at the same instant a beauteous white hand was laid upon his ? CONNIE OO KS (€(0)