Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER V. IN THE ATTIC. Tt was a scene worthy a melodrama. _.. For an instant dead silence reigned. The triumphant plot- BS - ters stood looking at their victim, and she—poor, snared bird ee _ —stood paralyzed, her great brown eyes, wide and wild, fixed | ~. $n unutterable horror upon the man she had married. He was the first to break the silence. With a loud laugh, he strode toward her, his arms extended. “fa! ha! ha! how the little one stares! -Am I the Gor- _ gon’s head, my dear, and have I turned you to stone? Come, my little brown-eyed bride, it is time your blissful bride- groom had a kiss!” Another stride toward her—then Estella awoke. With a. - wild, wild ery, that rang through the house, she flung up both arms and fled to the farthest corner of the room. “Kéep off!” she shrieked, “you pirate! you murderer! you second Cain! If you touch. me, I shall die!” j “+. pag as Darrell laughed again—his deep, melodious bass aug: “Ward names, my dear, to begin the honeymoon with. Bay: Connie, you must forgive our httle trick—all’s fair in love, you know. You would have tricked me, remember, if you eould—you and that little whipper-snapper. of a printer. I don’t bear any malice, but I really couldn’t stand by and see you throw yourself away on a contemptible little jackanapes - like that. Come, come, Estella—let bygones be bygones! You’re my wife now, as fast as church and state can make you, and the only thing you can do is to submit to the in- oa -evitable and consent to make me the happiest of men. Come, ba my dear—come! Get out of that corner and say you for- oT 1? ee ‘give me! _Again he came toward her, and again that frenzied shriek a rang through the house. ___ “Don’t come near me! don’t touch me! If you lay your ; ea finger upon me, I shall go mad! MRoysten Darrell, I will Bei never forgive you to my dying day!” ae “Oh, yes, you will, my dear! Don’t be unchristian. You i ant blame me for loving you to distraction, such a pretty ae girl as you are; you can’t blame me for overhearing your little conspiracy with Mr. Richard Derwent; and least of all ean you blame me for proving myself the more skill- on ony | plotter of the two.- Think better of it, my dear little eet wife; don’t stand glaring upon me there, as though I were an _ African ee: but hear to reason. We're married; I’m (E(0) > a” ae! pres ses | Gomichbooks - £ Ws bd . ‘ ee ; ee ANS, SP PE aS ee Sie een on :