The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 323: what you’re looking at

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

306 THE COURT OF LONDON not been able to conceal from you this love of mine, bu; have sought on many occasions to convey an intimation of its existence to your comprehension. Think you it was by mere accident that I have been so frequently placed next to you at the dinner-table, or that when walking abroad, I have found myself by your side? Ah! no, it was all inten- tional on my part,—those little ways and means and artifices by which a woman makes known her love.”’ ‘““ And if I were to give you the assurance of love in re- turn,’ asked Bergami, slowly raising his head and turning his eyes full upon the young lady’s countenance, which was now beaming with mingled hope, passion, and triumph, “ if I were to confess to you that I have not been indifferent to - your charms, that I have seen and understood your little wiles, and that if I have been slow to respond to them, it is because I was fearful lest my vanity should have led me to construe into love the merest tokens of friendship, —if I were to tell you all this, Emma, would you give me any proof of love in return? Would you convince me that yours is indeed a sincere, a genuine affection, and not a passing fantasy and evanescent whim? ”’ ‘OQ heavens! is it true, is it possible, that I hear you talking thus? ”’ cried Emma, hurried away by the raptures of exultation and amorous passion, which were now utterly past control, and seizing Bergami’s hand, she pressed it first to her lips and then to her heaving bosom. ‘“ Love must have no dalliance until its sincerity has been. )) proved,’ said Bergami, gently withdrawing his hand, but sazing upon Emma with every appearance of a tenderness that no longer sought to conceal itself. ‘““ Speak, speak, what mean you?”’ she cried, the fever- heat of enthusiastic joy thrilling through her entire form. ‘“T said ere now that I required a proof of your love. Oh, give it to me,” he added, with accents that suddenly became full of entreaty, as if he himself were inspired with some of the passion that made Emma’s blood course like lightning in its crimson channels. ‘“ But what proof do you require? ”’ she asked, confident that her charms had altogether subdued him, and that he had become fettered as a slave within the magic circle of her blandishments. ‘“ What proof? ” he said, as if pausing to consider, “‘ what ECORMICLIOO KS (E(0)