The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 177: what you’re looking at

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

152 THE COURT OF LONDON and she joyed in the prospect of that revenge which would speedily convert them into the bitterest disappointment. ‘“ My lord,”’ she said, gently withdrawing the hand which he had snatched while uttering the last few words of his impassioned address, “‘I beseech you to rise from this suppliant posture. It ill becomes a great and powerful nobleman such as you to kneel at the feet of an unpretending woman such as I.” “Oh, angelic creature! ’’ exclaimed the enraptured mar- quis, his head too much lost in dreams of bliss to allow him to notice the slight accent of sarcasm with which Venetia had spoken, “ you speak of yourself with a humility that is too disparaging, for the whole world of taste, fashion, and aristocracy recognizes in you the peerless queen of beauty.” ‘“ And doubtless these united worlds of which your lordship speaks,” said Venetia, with an irony charmingly veiled beneath a smile, “‘ have deputed you to become the mouth- piece of their flatteries.”’ ‘“Flatteries!’’ cried the marquis, starting to his feet, “they are truths, irrefragable, patent, delicious truths. But do you not intend to lay aside this cloak which envelops a form combining the graces of Venus with the luxuriance of Flora, the majesty of Juno, and the imposing splendour of Diana? ”’ ‘Ah! my lord,” interrupted Venetia, with a merry laugh, ‘you would personify in me all the attributes of the heathen divinities.’’ ‘Every idea of beauty which I can possibly conceive,” said the marquis, gazing upon Venetia with the devouring eyes of passion, ‘‘ must be called into request to depict your loveliness. But let me remove that invidious bonnet with its great thick veil, let me loosen the strings of this shrouding mantle — ”’ ‘“ Hush! some one approaches!’’ ejaculated Venetia, and she drew the veil over her countenance. At the same moment a knock at the door of the saloon was heard, and the marquis hastened to see who was there, muttering to himself, ‘‘ Perdition! what can this interruption mean? I ordered that on no account was I to be disturbed.” Then, on opening the door and beholding his valet, Brock- man, he demanded, in an impetuous tone, “ What do you want? ”’ CORnnicloooks (E(@)