Penny Dreadfuls, 1889 · page 134 of 298
A Heart's Bitterness — page 134: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1889. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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PAY SG oe ae ee ad) Oe ay Wee Sy hn PNY TE GS LA BA) mite” i a ey PET Be ME eT OGRA fet AR) Catt of A ee 8 ee + ot Ses i or © ie Perey > "? Pe Fe a ek” aad . Sinha te a) AL Pr aes ea Bie A Ae oe Ae CO a Mend SG ePe MeN nS a4 Fo ed Be Se Se 4 a as ae wu % s . . ’ ¢ 4 z - a DD A sae 3 , - a Oy eet CT ars nd ue ay AS. AF — nat San ale ea eS a SPN la Nas ec A a aN MeN ce a Tepe Sate Sah SOM May rh li Weber eM nS cathoe N ate Rigi Belay ie gli Sis Se 126 (A HEART’S BITTERNESS. Meena ‘You said you did once,’ > wailed Helen. —T think not; you took too much _ for granted; your am bition misleading you. Why do you follow me?” _- Because I love you; because you are lonely, and no oneelseloves you, and out of sheer loneliness and grati- tude you will turn to me. Your wife does not love you; and Edna, that moonlight, cold, white creature, never did. Some small girlish fancy was once fed by your looks and words, but it died; she cares nothing for you. She has gone merely to get rid of you. Qh, turn to me!” «‘T would rather pursue Edna Ambrose, flying and scorn- ing me, than take the sweetest words of any other woman in the world,” said Leigh, madly. Tt will be in vain, all in vain,” moaned Helen. ‘‘She will never marry you.” | “Marry! Heavens! Do you forget I am bound hand and foot?” * But there may be an end, even to marriage,” said Helen: frantically. <‘‘ Your’ wife might die, or she—you—you might be divorced. Then vou could marry one whose whole hope and thought would be to please you!” Leigh started as-if he had been stung. ‘Then he said, in a frenzy: ~~ *€ Death! Divorce! Marriage! Fool, do you not see that these words only suggest to me the path open to Edna? Sheis to me as dew after burning noon, as the soft breeze after the breathless Sahara, as fair flowers after snow, as spring after winter, as peace after despair, as heaven after hell. But you, Helen—you are too much like _ my own goaded, mad, desperate self.” wee i you. were ‘free—free, would you not marry me?” = No, no—by Heaven, no!” ae << What would you do?” cried Helen, seizing both his wrists. » .. “T would die at the feet of Edna Ambrose, unless she _ toldme 1 might live for her.” =. *’Why scorn me so? Am I not handsome, accom- plished, devoted—all that—— i an sf Hi befits a Lord of Leigh, ancestry and all?” sneered. Villain! Iam your equal. I am good enough for you. / Iam as good as your mother. Am I more adventuress than oes she? I know the blood out of which you sprung.”