Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 194: what you’re looking at

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

“o > pe = , ¥ me © rie Fe oe a + 2 iif ’ ; J & , . , » r 1. an; “ . ‘ * 7 ’ “aoeal oie > Pern, vee >y' ae he : re : od . ap { / = % at 7% i ‘ oe ; ; VS wu he et ¥ rere. oe = ‘ ’ ee aa ge ate , igeikee | Peep em | “¥ . oo > " . » * ora | = ot OM sar ram’s Re enge. 189 | - . ~ : . ; ; her * nc novela they fonght duela for less than this, and who was ll her the romantic age of duelling had passed away ? - = 1 thousand worlds!” — “Well, it shall be just as you please, Estella, of course; I n't care. It will not be my first time out, by long odds: , one don’t care to shoot one’s cousin. Blood’s thicker 2 water, they say, and Alwyn, poor devil, never did me - great harm. You start for Europe, ‘they tell me, im- ated upon his return. Why not keep your little secrét ill _ the ‘vasty deep’ rolls between us? I don’t care, I repeat, but ; for your sake, you know. Once safely on shipboard, mi ake a clean breast of it, if you like, and—who knows— th 2 excitement of the story may cure a fit of sea sickness,” ¥ She covered her face with her hands, and broke out into h Ly sterical sobbing. She wanted to do right so much—to tell g all—an¢c she dare not—she dare not! She was hemmed in on every side—utterly in the toils! > — “Don’t ery, Essie!” Robert. Bartram said, a little touched. «] t?s hard on you, I allow, but, after all, what he doesn’t kn ow can't harm him. Keep your secret forever, if you please ; I shan’t peach. I owe Alwyn Bartram more than one old grudge, but I don’t bear malice. We won’t tell him, and _he’ll never know you were once my wife.” ashes she had flung it wide, and discovered Mrs, Hamilton. SI he started back, pale with guilt. “Come in, madame,” ’ said Robert Bartram, with imperturb- a nee froid; “you'll catch cold, airing your ears at key- es. My dear Mrs. Bartram, this lady has been listening to D ur conversation -If there is any part of it she did not over- ir, perhaps you will kindly repeat it. For myself, I have ¢ time. Good’ afternoon, mesdames, both!” 3 “T beg your pardon, Mr. Bartram!” said Mrs. Hamilton, avexdropper, or being insulted by the accusation. I dis- ove red this note on the floor of Mrs. Bartram’s chamber and a ee here at once to restore it. I rapped, but your conver- ution was too absorbing, apparently, to permit you to hear "Here it is, Mrs. Bartram—excuse me for interrupting r tete-a-tete, and permit me to withdraw without bring- ng ng it to. an untimely end.” . ler ae little eyes eleamed vindictively. Estella, white nd frighte ned, held out her hand for the crumpled paper, 1 utter eda low: cry as she received Robert Bartram’s note. 2, too, 1 ce He a it at the same instant. | hl” he s said, “culpably careless of you, Mrs. Alwyn Bar- Ave e your bi ‘eit Pasha knocking about in this man- +i Tl yee A oe way rol? she gasped. “A duel ¢ Oh, no, no, no! Not for. ZH e stopped—the door had ereaked. Quick as lightning "¢ ‘awing herself up stiffly. “I am not accustomed to play the (E(0) a Yea "as ais ee Se ae , Rene “<cOMICcE JOOKS ae " ‘< * . f ~~ é ; : ‘ : 7 - 4