The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 151: what you’re looking at

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130 REYNOLDS’ WORKS ‘Nothing was further from my intention,’’ exclaimed Christian. ‘‘ Had you suffered me to proceed without inter- ruption, I should have simply added that you were burning to reveal certain secrets which I therefore had no particular trouble to elicit.”’ ‘‘But you have made the most villainous use of them,” ejaculated Alexis, ‘‘and you must give me satisfaction. Name your friend, sir, and mine shall call upon him this evening. I have been wandering about in the hope of en- countering you. I thought it was useless to inquire your address of Captain Stanley, as he was evidently in your plot, but accident fortunately threw me in your way.” | ‘Tf you consider yourself aggrieved, sir,’’ answered Chris- tian, composedly, ‘‘ I am bound to meet you according to the provocation you have just given me. I name Captain Stan- ley as my friend.’’ Alexis said not another word, but bowing haughtily, he issued from the room. He had already made up his mind whose assistance he would invoke in case he should succeed in finding an opportunity to challenge Christian to a duel, and he at once bent his steps to the house of the individual whom he thus purposed to engage as his second. This was none other than the Honourable Wilson Stanhope. Mr. Stanhope was seated at the time in company with his mistress, Marion Sutton. It was an elegantly furnished apartment, and the young woman was half-reclining upon a sofa, listening to the protestations of love which the infatu- ated Stanhope was pouring forth. She has already been, described as a full-grown beauty, but still quite youthful, and with all the freshness of youth blooming upon her rich, luxuriant charms. Already somewhat inclined to stoutness, yet with a perfect symmetry of form, she had an air of sensuous indolence, a voluptuous kind of laziness and lan- guor, as she lounged upon that sofa. Although it was now nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, yet she was still clad in a morning déshabillé, and this being open at the bosom, revealed the exuberant contours of her bust. Her light hair showered in myriads of ringlets upon her bare neck and shoulders, which were of dazzling whiteness. Her large blue eyes seemed to swim in a soft, sensuous languor, and if an artist or a sculptor had required a model for the personifica- tion of Voluptuousness on the canvas or in the form of Gomicdoc 6S (E()