The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 367: what you’re looking at

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

300 THE COURT OF LONDON few hours, and giving the reins to her imagination, think of abandoning herself only to voluptuous delights.” ‘“ We shall see,’”’ observed Jocelyn. “ The night is wearing on, they must have returned by this time, and if she mean to seek your chamber she will be here soon.’’ Baron Bergami was right. Even while retracing her way with her sisters from Maravelli’s house to the villa did Emma give full scope to her licentious imaginings. She thought within herself that the pains of the night being over, the hour for its pleasures was now approaching, and in _ Bergami’s arms did she hope to reap the reward of all that she had just undergone. The three sisters stealthily reéntered the villa, and im- mediately separating from each other, they sought their respective chambers. But Agatha, according to previous understanding, repaired in the first instance to Mrs. Ranger’s room, and there she found the old harridan sitting up and anxiously awaiting her return. There was a screen drawn around one corner of the chamber, and as Agatha entered, Mrs. Ranger pointed significantly in that direction. A cold shudder thrilled through the young lady’s frame as she full easily comprehended what the sign meant, namely, that Kobolt and his two companions were concealed behind that screen. “Now, Agatha,” said Mrs. Ranger, of course speaking in English and also in a low voice, “ tell me in as few words as you can all that has taken place.”’ The young lady sat down on a chair close to the old one, and rapidly outlined the horrors through which she and her sisters had passed, as a matter of course not forgetting to describe how they had beheld the forms of the murdered Curzon and Malpas stretched upon the table in the doctor’s dissecting-room. Mrs. Ranger was astounded at this portion of the narrative, the crime being characterized by so much real mystery in every respect. But she was not a woman likely to devote much time to speculation and conjecture when it became necessary to act with decision. She accord- ingly asked, ‘‘ How stands the matter, Agatha? What words spoke you in Maravelli’s ear? ”’ ‘TI said nothing,’’ was the response. ‘“‘ I was too much the prey to the wildest emotions of terro and grief to be GoOmMmicdooks (E(0) m