The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 370: what you’re looking at

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

LAST ACT OF NIGHT’S TRAGEDY 353 less possible than ever to believe she had undergone such exciting fluctuations of feeling during the few past hours. But now came another of the finishing touches to the mas- culine toilet, namely, the fastening on of the exquisitely fashioned false moustache. Above her short upper lip did she affix it in the most artistic manner, and then, as she gazed at herself in the mirror, with that delicately pencilled, glossy, and curling appendage to her luscious mouth, she fancied that it gave a more mischievous expression to her features and a delightful archness to her smile. Resplendent as pearls already were her beautiful teeth, but if it were possible, that dark moustache made them appear still more brilliant by the contrast; and when she fastened below the nether lip, just where the chin formed its beauteous dimple, another little artificial contrivance of hair to serve as an imperial, her delight became absolutely childish. Indeed, as she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror before which her masculine toilet was achieved, she looked like a radiant being without a care, and who had never even known what a ruffled feeling was, dressing for some masquerade where she was to enjoy the full measure of characteristic delight. Long as it has taken us to describe the process of this toilet, it did not occupy Emma above twenty minutes alto- _ gether, and now, as she threw a last look at herself, she murmured, with an air of supreme satisfaction, ‘* Never did this attire seem to become me so much before.”’ And truly it did become her Well, setting forth the ex- quisite symmetry of her shape without concealing its fem- inine contours. Indeed, it could be but at a distance, or in an obscure hght, and when only a hasty glance was thrown upon her, that she could be taken for one of the male sex, much less Bergami himself, whose noble height she alto- gether wanted. Besides, it were easy to perceive, when gazing close or in a clear light, that she was a female disguised, not merely from the delicacy, the softness, and the polish of her skin, nor from the seductive look of wantonness which beamed in her mischievous eyes and shed the subdued light of soft sensuousness over her entire countenance, whiskered and moustached though it were, but it was also from the rich development of that bust which the tight fitting frock could not possibly flatten and only partially restrain and compress. But even as she drew herself up to her full height, COMMICLOO <S) (C(O) im