The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 291: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXVI THE CLIFF THE scene now changes to Dover. _ It was the day following that of which we have been writing, and a lady, elegantly dressed, was sauntering alone upon the eminences which terminate abruptly in the chalky cliffs fronting the sea. She was tall and well formed, but her countenance was concealed with a thick veil, folded in such a manner that not even the keenest eyes could penetrate through it so as to discern her features. To all appearance, judging by her figure, which was very slender, but perfectly upright, and replete with symmetrical grace, she was by no means advanced in years, and as she walked slowly along, her feet and ankles which glanced beneath her dress seemed most delicately shaped. Alto- gether, she was one whom it was impossible to pass by with indifference, and the air of mystery with which the thick veil, so carefully folded, invested her, added to the interest of her appearance. It was midday, and the sun was shining gloriously. Calm as an immense lake of quicksilver stretched the sea far away, until it was bounded in the eastern horizon by a barely per- ceptible line which marked the coast of France. Not a breeze ruffled the surface of the ocean, and the sails of the vessels hung, as it were, listless and passive to the masts. Slowly did the lady continue her walk, but frequently stopping to gaze upon the mighty expanse of waters which stretched before her from the base of the cliffs on whose summit she was sauntering. And yet it did not altogether seem that she thus paused to view the enchanting prospect, but by her very attitude and manner it was evident that through the thick folds of her veil she was gazing upon 269 (C(CO)INN) (@ (O JI Ike, nin