The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 359: what you’re looking at

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

342 REYNOLDS’ WORKS ‘“ Yes, it is true, it is true!’ echoed the marquis, in a tone of rending agony. ‘“‘ But good God! how could this secret have been known? ” “Ah! little matter how it was known,’’ murmured Con- stance, stricken with despair, “ since you confess it is the truth. Oh, Etienne, wherefore have you deceived me thus? ”’ and starting from her seat, she was about to break away from him with frantic excitement, when he took her hand, he fell upon his knees, he besought her to remain, he implored her to tarry for a few minutes to hear him. There was a desperation in his looks and a wildness in his tone which frightened Constance Farefield, and though she felt hurt, mortified, and wounded in all her keenest sensi- bilities, though it appeared as if all the happiness of her life were suddenly annihilated by a single blow, yet she could not leave him thus, for she felt that she loved him still. “Speak, Etienne,” she said, in a low, deep tone clouded with ineffable emotions. “ 1 will not refuse you a hearing.”’ She resumed her seat; he placed himself by her side, and would have still retained her hand in his own, but she gently withdrew it, and then her griei burst forth anew in convulsing sobs. “Oh, calm yourself, calm yourself, I implore you,” he said, in accents of passionate entreaty. ‘ Would you see me kill myself at your feet? But I can endure anything rather than this anguish of yours. ‘The spectacle drives me mad, because it is 1 who have caused it. Yet if you knew all.” ‘“ Then tell me everything, be frank and candid with me,” said Constanee. ‘‘ And, oh,” she added, in a voice full of gushing emotion, “if there be extenuation on your behalf, God knows that I shall only be too willing to admit it.” “ Tf you will grant me your patience, Constance,’’ resumed the marquis, ‘“‘ I will tell you everything, and you will hear one of the most extraordinary histories that ever fell from the lips of human being. Talk of the incidents of novels and romances being extravagant! ‘Their interest palls and wanes into mawkish insipidity, their excitement subsides into monotony and dulness, when compared with the story I am about to relate. And that there is extenuation, if not a complete vindication for the course I have pursued in respect to yourself, Constance, I may venture to promise. Nay, CONNIE NO KS (E(0)