Moths by Ouida — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

MOTHS. 8S He ate little, but drank much, though one of the finest artists of the Paris kitchens had done his best to tempt his taste with the rarest and most delicate combination. | ‘¢ You do not seem to have much appetite,” he said, after a little while. ‘‘ We may as well go. You look very well now.” He looked at her narrowly. Fatigue conquered, and emotion subdued, had given an un- usual brilliancy to her eyes, an unusual flush to her cheeks. The | white velvet was scarcely whiter than her skin; about) her eae throat the moth trembled between the flame and the star. . : ‘* Have you followed my advice and put on some rouge?” he asked, suddenly. Vere answered simply: 66 No. 9 ‘* Paris will say that you are handsomer than any of the others,” he said, carelessly. _ ‘* Let us go.” Vere’s cheeks flushed more deeply as she rose in obedience, She knew that he was thinking of all the other women whom Paris had associated with his name. She drew about her a cloak of white feathers, and went to her carriage. Her heart was sick, yet it beat fast. She had learned to be quite still, and to show nothing that she felt under all pain; and this emotion was scarcely pain, this sense that so soon the voice of Correze would reach her ear. She was very tired; all the night before she had not slept; the fatigue and feverishness of the long unbroken journey were upon her, making her temples throb, her head swim, her limbs feel” light as air. But the excitement of one idea sustained her, and made her‘pulses quicken with fictitious strength: so soon she would hear the voice of Correze. Me A vague dread, a sense of apprehension that she could not have explained, were upon her; yet a delighted expectation came over her also, and was sweeter than any feeling that had ever been possible to her since her marriage. As their carriage passed through the streets, her husband smoked a cigarette, and did not speak at all. She was thankful for the silence, though she fancied in it he must hear the loud, fast beating of her heart. | ~ It was ten o’clock when they reached the opera-house. Her husband gave her his arm, and they passed through the vesti- bule and passage, and up the staircase to that door which at the commencement of the season had been allotted to the name of Prince Zouroft. | The house was hushed, the music, which has all the ecstasy and the mystery of human passion in it, thrilled through the stillness. Her husband took her through the corridor into their box, which was next that which had once been the em- press’, The vast circle of light seemed to whirl before her eyes. Vere entered as though she were walking in her sleep, and sat down, Ecomicboo ” all . ) i qQ cS co