The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

THE RESULT 219 away from the mirror, a glimpse was allowed of the well- rounded ankles, and the admirably shaped feet with their arching insteps. Altogether she was a superb creature, and pity it was that she was what she was. “Now, have you furnished me with a bonnet, shawl, gloves, parasol, and all those kind of things?” she inquired, with a merry laugh flowing in the flutelike tones of her melodious voice. ‘“‘ Everything is here,’’ responded Kate, pointing to a chair in the corner where the articles which Lady Bess mentioned had been deposited. ‘I have chosen the things from my own wardrobe that I thought would best suit your com- plexion, figure, and appearance. Do let me congratulate you upon your looks in that garb.” ‘“ You like me better, then, as I am now than in the other dress? ’’ said the Amazonian lady. “Yes, I think I do, and yet there is something so dashing and fine in your man’s apparel. But you must not put on the bonnet and shawl now. Remember that you are an invalid — on gruel and dry toast,” added Kate Marshall, in a merry voice. ‘“ Seriously speaking, however, what are you going to do?” ‘See Mr. Marlow, to be sure,’’ at once responded Lady Bess. ‘“‘ Now show me to your best furnished private apart- ment, Kate, and I will lie down upon the sofa with as lan- gulshing an air of interesting indisposition as I can possibly assume. Then you can introduce Mr. Marlow.” “But upon what pretence?’’ inquired Kate, “‘ for he scarcely believes now, I think, that our Mrs. Chandos is his Mrs. Chandos.” “Tell him that you have very candidly explained to me as much as you thought fit of all that has taken place down-stairs, and that I at once, with equal candour, informed , you who I am, namely, Mrs. Chandos residing at the cottage — near Tottenham in the neighbourhood of London. Then he is sure to take the business before the mayor, and that is just what I want.”’ “Come then, Elizabeth,’’ said Kate Marshall, and she forthwith conducted the heroine to a well-furnished parlour on the same story as the bedchamber where this colloquy took place. Having seen the heroine deposit herself with the air of an Gomicdoo “S$ (S(O)