The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 252: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XX A SCENE IN THE DARK WE must now return to Jocelyn Loftus and Laura Linden, whom we left together in the dead of night and in the uttei darkness of a chamber at the prefecture of police. The reader will remember that the young lady declared it to be utterly impossible for her to pass through the opening into her own apartment, and it had been agreed that she was to remain in our hero’s chamber until daylight should enable them to enlarge the aperture, for be it recollected that they dared not light the candles again after the per- emptory command and undisguised menace of the watchman. The moment Jocelyn thus found that it was absolutely necessary — or, at least, to all appearances — that Laura should remain until dawn in his apartment, he again rose, as it were, superior to the perplexities of his situation, and in the calm and courteous tone of a gentleman who wishes to show that his aim is to observe the most delicate con- sideration toward a female companion, he said, ‘ Miss Linden, | pray you to use my couch as a sofa, and I will envelop myself in my cloak and repose in the armchair between the windows.”’ This observation was significant enough, inasmuch as the position which Loftus thus specified, and to which he at once felt his way in the dark, placed the whole length of the room between himself and Laura Linden. Accordingly, enveloping himself in his mantle, Loftus threw himself in the armchair, and for a few minutes a profound silence relened in the apartment. “Is not this a most romantic and singular adventure? ”’ said Laura, at length, in that low, tremulous, and half- plaintive voice which is ofttimes woman’s most dangerous 230 CONNIE DOOlKS (C(O)