Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

ae” - ae ft. ie is “i tas fone tan tea er RE Mite . ; Shahi tS, > ‘ af ve th = 4 . wd vile, , has) Ps ‘ar /) me na 7 ‘es L * 4 x ake ers > \ a Pe Pa ee Le Hae te “alle hey; . . 7 .¥ ‘ers at” ad Ae Ni be we a" ’ oda / ie we ete Phy sctute S ) : Rees - Le a “ ‘ ’ ” J ‘ " . * oe » ary ? ae Ss ' ‘ Ce bes ba Pn oe ea! ae ma” + ¥ a , b Se ee Va Sia aaa ae ‘A i Dia a in 1 the struggle between duty and passion, wrong The hours wore wearily on tio Estella; head, and heart, and res. sp ichod alike with the noise, and the heat, and the olitter. is conscience was ill at ease, and he was unjust. She did not dance; she could not talk; she felt sick, and oa piri tless, ‘and utterly worn out. a a Young men shrugged their shoulders and left her. What cou. 1 Bartram be inking of to marry that insipid little She x stole away, long saat midnight, whilst every one else ) mw s at supper, to the long, deserted music-room, half blinded vith the pain in her throbbing head. iy te - ba cony outside was forsaken. She seated herself in the ~ she ns of the curtains, and laid her hot forehead against the old glass, not half so cold as the dull despair at her heart. — “Tf I could only die,” she thought, wearily, ‘ ‘and end it all! I could only die and leave him free!” _ night wind, of the pale moonlight, of ‘being missed, in a dull - worn -out—tired, sick, utterly hopeless and helpless. | - “He loves her, and he will learn to hate me!” The th ought surged dully through her throbbing brain. “If it =were not a sin to die I would set him free to-night!” | _A step, a voice aroused her—a step, a voice that~would have almost aroused her from her death-sleep. Two peo- SS e swept by her on the balcony—her husband, with Leonie | Rauherfoed upon his arm. An opera-cloak draped her in its sof folds; she clung to: him, her face uplifted, her eyes 8s sionate and imploring in the moonlight. _. The apartment was vast and empty; a bay-window stood | sac avitingly open, with the cool night wind sweeping in. The She sat there, heedless of the cold, of the raw November ie Sete oor of sick apathy. Heart, and body, and soul she felt. = “ have™ repented, ” she was erying. “I do repent. Oh- Alwyn! no need to say such merciless, cruel things to me! You a are amply avenged.” ee re 3? Alwyn Bartram said, mele and bitterly. “TI am vil tor ; ; but. another such victory, I think, would cost me my king g Jom. You have only wrecked both our lives—only made F fo 3 - lives | miserable—only made me the most guilty and p ‘Jur red. wretch alive. I ought to hate you. I do ‘hate you ‘ 2 o0ed a wi €, innocent and spotless as the angels, who loves Ine wit itl 2 all her pure heart, and whom I vowed by my best Tri death-bed to love and cherish. Consistent, am I .» r one hr belong - _think, acseage bo deserve each at times, and love you more madly than ever still. I have e,~ manly, worthy any woman’s love?. We were (EO) _ Ww Pde Sere omicbooks