Lady Evelyn — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

= 64 be othe Sone ts f Judah, drive me mad! a eo ee SO Ee ee i he ed sie? Ss ms. et ae be A hee tele ee fg rt ry OU, See 41% Ls ‘> peee®’,; os. * PGA "7 Se & 5 ~ 12% me eens fake ane oe sah b aca ad are ty BRE Ae. ss ha Aiden UE (te aie mn hey ete: Se RR ee = “ beg 4 ah. . 4S ° ¢ ‘ « * m 1 ‘ " md 4 ide foe re : . ne The paper lees: from the reader’s hand. He awed his face in his hands with a hollow groan. | “Will I ever forget his face?” he said, huskily. “The look in his eyes as he turned them upon me last, will haunt me to my dying day. And she—that last, upward look as she fell backward into the river! Oh, God! it will 7? The clock struck one. Before its one faint chime died : _away there came a low, cautious knock at the house door. “te _ Morgan started to his feet. eits) he!” he muttered. “I-had: forgotten him, Ah, | among all the devils in the regions infernal is there an- eather half so deeply damned as he—this second Iscariot —hbetraying with a kiss?” The knock was repeated. . The Englishman arose, the eandle in his shaking hand, and walked to the door. As he unlocked and threw it open a man, muffled in a great- coat and slouched hat, came in, dripping like a water- _ dog. At last, my man! I give you my word I thought you _had fallen asleep. A sound digestion and an easy con- science always insure speedy slumber. Beastly night it is, but all the better for me. Come in out of this draughty passage, and let’s sit comfortably down.” He jerked the flaring dip out of the hand of the pallid attorney, and led the way, with long strides, into the _ cheerless room. He unbuttoned and flung back his great- _ coat, threw his slouched hat aside, and stood revealed in the dull glow—Gerald Desmond. “Your reception-room looks, like yourself, my dear friend—dull as the devil! Still, it’s better than the con- ~ demned cell in Clontarf jail, with the gallows and the hangman in prospective. Ah, my beauteous, brilliant e Lord Rory, how is it with you now?” es te can Vt tee ae Moree cried, di with a bitter orn; * He lay back in his chair, his legs, cased in waterproof - top-boots, outstretched ; his sallow face flushed ; his light- blue eyes gleaming with the cold light of sapphire stones. “Sit thee down, my Guillaume, and never look so pale! You'd do for the Ghost in ‘Hamlet,’ without any pearl powder, only you're too hang-dog looking for any honest y Sree Sit down and don’t look so like the first Ihnen ina tragedy, if you can help it.” Aven a me et apie Wik ioe thie ea Tee oS ace wf Sey se RE CEE LY OP ary Ra Sad =P