Octavia's Pride; or, The Missing Witness — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

OCTAVIA'S PRIDE | 55 The Wainwright carriage drove into London just before sunset, and in taking the shortest route for their destina- tion, it passed by a police station;- around which a crowd had gathered, and for a moment blocked the way. The stopping of the carriage roused Miss Wainwright from her abstraction, and she leaned out, but drew back in- stantly, shuddering at the sight presented by a hideous, — ghastly burden, borne upon a plank between two men—a drowned woman, the face so decomposed by long soaking in the water, as to make it seem impossible it had ever been a human countenance. : Recognition of the features was, of course, impossible, but the clothing was little injured. A tall, vixenish looking woman, in a black cape and hood, stood by the litter, and lifted the dripping tresses of brown hair. Her voice reached the carriage as she spoke, in answer to some interrogation of the station officer. “Yes, sir, there’s no doubt about it—them are her clothes, and she had such hair. It’s the poor little girl as has been missing from my house these two weeks. Her uncle has been searching everywhere. We thought as how somebody had run away with her. He’s gone now looking for her. Poor thing! [I’m just mistrusting she had some trouble, and took this way to get out of it.” ‘< You are positive about the identity?” asked the officer. ““~ am positive about them clothes. I can’t tell any- thing by such a face as that. You’d best save the clothes for him to see when he comes.” | The litter was still resting on the pavement before the station door. | Octavia Wainwright bent out again, gave one swift glance, and then pulled the strap vigorously. -€ Drive on, Robert, or return to the other street.. Do not keep me here.” <S €oO ComiIcboo