The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

INTREPIDITY 85 suddenly divined the truth, — that same truth which had already struck Gertrude, and the important results of which the astute girl had immediately foreseen. Yes, it was now apparent enough to Editha also. Her husband, the earl, was no doubt coming to share the couch of the lady’s-maid. A few more whispered words passed rapidly between Editha and Gertrude, but so low that they were only just audible to themselves, and could not have been heard by anybody even at a couple of yards’ distance. That the earl was approaching without a light was certain, because not a ray gleamed through the keyhole nor shone under the door. And now this door was slowly opened, and Gertrude, assuming the frightened tone of one suddenly starting from her sleep, exclaimed, “‘ Who is there? ”’ “Tis I, dearest Gertrude,’ answered the earl, in a tone that was tremulous with desire, and he closed the door behind him. ‘“ But, my lord, I thought that you had conceived a hatred for me ere now?” exclaimed the abigail, in a deprecatory tone. “Ah! but I was enraged, dear girl, cruelly enraged,’ replied Curzon, now pausing to lock the door. ‘ But on retiring to rest I could not sleep, and gradually your image rose up in my mind, until at last it has so far got the better of all other thoughts and impressions that I have resolved to enjoy a few hours of love and bliss in your arms, and leave until to-morrow the vexations, the scandals, and the exposures that may belong thereto. So let me embrace thee, dearest Gertrude, let me embrace thee!’’ cried the earl, his voice now swelling with the tremulous exultation of desire mingled with anticipated triumph. And through the utter darkness of that boudoir did he feel his way toward the couch, into which Editha, his own. wife Editha, had stealthily crept, while Gertrude had glided. away, alter answering him, into the farthest corner of the room. “Wherefore will you not speak to me, dearest girl? ”’ asked the Earl of Curzon, in a voice stifling with desire. “Ah! you murmur something with those sweet lips of yours, but I cannot catch your words. No matter. I kiss your lips, and you kiss back again! The faithless Editha — Cconniclooolks (C(O)