A Parisian Romance — page 247: what you’re looking at

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

238 | A PARISIAN ROMANCE. and then, a low cry made them all turn. Erect, be- neath one of the arches of the conservatory, stood - Marcelle. She had cast aside her hat, her hair had become unloosened, and streamed down her back a mass of golden bronze. Her face was ashen, her lips trembling, and her gaze was fixed upon Henri, her whole soul burning in her great dark eyes. Henri struggled against the emotion that seized hold of him. Pale as death at the apparition of the woman he had adored, he stood like a statue, moved to the very depths of his being. She advanced until she was within a few steps of him, and then, in a low voice, every accent of which was distinctly audible throughout the room, she said: “Juliani’s mistress! No! No! not that. I was weak, foolish, vain, ungrateful, all that and more, but there is one crime I have not been guilty of. I have been faithful to you! I swear it!” It was the truth, and not one of the three who listened to these words doubted them. Instinctively, they felt that in one respect at least they had wronged her. A great weight seemed lifted from Henri’s heart. “Marcelle!” he cried, passionately. “Is this true 2” “On my soul! I have loved only you!” With a gesture of unutterable love and longing he opened wide his arms. She looked at him with staring, terrified eyes, as if she did not understand, Eomicbooks Go