Her Faithful Knight — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

Passion and Poetry. I51 deed, feel anything at all about you, I do hope you will now forget this fancy for me.” “Never!” he exclaimed. “It is part of my life. You are the woman in the world created for me to love. I cannot live without you.” ‘Please, please,” she cried, “do not make it impossible for me to keep this engagement! Please go now at once, and let me forget everything you have said.” “You must not forget! Dorothy, is it possible that you, with the heart of a weman in your sweet breast, can see a man suffer as your coldness makes me suffer, and feel nothing in return?” As he spoke he suddenly gai her hands in a fevered clasp and tried to draw her to him. But in an instant Dorothy’s gentleness and reserve vanished, and she turned upon him with flashing eyes at a white heat of anger that would not have disgraced a queen of tragedy. “Let go my hands this instant!” she said in a low, con- centrated tone of intense anger. “I said just now that I felt nothing about you. But when you touch me like this against my will, I feel that I hate you!” He released his hold in an instant. There was no mis- taking the expression of absolute detestation which had shone from her eyes. The Hon. Darcy muttered something highly uncompli- mentary to women in general as the door closed upon his irate leading lady, who clearly was no more impressed by his fervid love than she was by his position, prospects or good looks. He had never met a woman so obdurate, nor one who excited within him so ardent a longing. Yet he was not wholly discouraged by his interview. The hate which flashed into her eyes was far, far better than indif- ference; at least it was a passion with excitement and heat about it, and as such he esteemed it less unflattering than her former calm. Eomichooks (E)