The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 264: what you’re looking at

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

THE DECISION 233 ‘‘Indora,”’ suddenly exclaimed Redcliffe, with almost passionate vehemence, and such a paroxysm of feeling was indeed most rare on his part, “‘ it is impossible I can leave you thus. I regret having said anything that might seem to savour of reproach; I am sorry that I should have dwelt so long and so emphatically on your conduct in prolonging my captivity in India. But heavens! if you were aware of all the mischief which was thus entailed upon me, and you can in part comprehend it, from those words which I let drop on the memorable occasion when I knelt at your feet by the side of the marble fountain in the palace of Inderabad, oh, if you knew all you would pardon any bitterness that tinc- tured my words! ” ‘“‘ It would be impossible, Clement,’’ answered the princess, mildly, almost meekly, “‘ for you to give me offence. My unfortunate love has tamed my disposition; I no longer think and feel with the pride of a king’s daughter, but with the humility and the suffering of a poor weak woman! ”’ ‘‘ Heavens! ”’ ejaculated Redcliffe, visibly struggling with himself as the resolve which he had pronounced was more and more staggered by each successive proof of Indora’s illimi- table devotion, ‘‘ how can I endure to torture you, while you display so much goodness? ”’ He rose and paced the apartment with hurried and uneven steps. That man whose wont it was to be so mournfully grave and so coldly reserved — so shut up, as it were, in the secret sorrows of his own inscrutable heart — was now a prey to the profoundest agitation. Indora followed him with her eyes; that very agitation afflicted her on the one hand, while it partially seemed to encourage hope on the other, and the tears again streamed down her cheeks, again trickled upon the gorgeous bust which the open caftan and the low under- garment left half-revealed. ‘‘ Indora,”’ said Redcliffe, abruptly resuming his seat by her side, “‘ I cannot leave you thus; my very nature revolts against it. And yet for Heaven’s sake buoy not up yourself with immediate hope, for that could not possibly be fulfilled at once. No, sternly and implacably should I refuse, even though you were at this moment at the point of death and an affirmative syllable from my lips could alone save you. But yet — ”’ He stopped short, and it was with breathless suspense, with Gomicboo “S (E(@)