The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

2 REYNOLDS’ WORKS pencil of an artist. No corset now imprisoned the contours of her shape, which therefore took their own natural and voluptuous developments. Her glossy brown hair floated negligently over the hand which sustained her head, and over the shoulders which were covered with the snowy night-dress. Pleasure and dissipation had not marred the gorgeous beauty of her form; the rounded and full undula- - tions of the bust retained their proper position, as if all the freshness of youth had remained associated with the exuber- ant charms of a superb womanhood. The sweeping length of her limbs was delineated by the bedclothes; all the flow- ing outlines of her form were traceable, and could be followed by the eye, if an observer had been present. The semi-languor which accompanies the first few minutes of the morn’s awakening gave a certain expression of sensuousness to her countenance, or, rather, softly deepened that which it habituaily wore. She was a splendid creature, well-grown and fresh coloured, but the fulness of her contours stopped short just at that degree of luxuriance when they touched upon embonpoint, while the hue upon her cheeks was not the ruddiness of the rustic hoiden, but the carnation glow upon a finely grained skin. Her lips were of coral redness, habitually moist, and seeming to invite fervid kisses, as well as to be enabled to give them back with a kindred ardour. Her teeth were somewhat large, but of ivory whiteness and faultlessly even; her nose was straight, her forehead high. It has already been stated that she was about two and twenty, and since the age of fifteen had she dwelt under the evil auspices of Madame Angelique. Her temperament was naturally luxurious; she had fallen an easy victim to the wiles of that abominable woman, and as she was an orphan, she had no happy home to regret. On the contrary, of the four females whom we introduced to the reader at the milliner’s establishment, Lettice was the one least acces- sible to remorseful feelings, and most inclined to abandon herself fully and completely to the mode of existence she was pursuing. She lay half-reclining upon her pillow in that apartment around which her eyes wandered by no means lovingly at first; yet, as we have seen, she consoled herself quickly enough for this change in her quarters, by the reflection that there was novelty in it, and that she was embarking in CONNIE OO KS (E(0) m