The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

THE RIVAL 105 ‘‘ Then who is she, boy?’ demanded the Unknown, fear- fully excited with a thousand maddening, conflicting, wilder- ing emotions and ideas. ‘‘ Speak! who is she? ”’ ‘““T!” ejaculated the page; and, tearing open the closely buttoned frock coat at the same instant, the mysterious being revealed the white bosom of a female. ‘‘ Heavens! what does this mean? ”’ ‘cried the Unknown, amazement now absorbing all other feelings. “‘ Who are you? Wherefore this disguise? Why that dark hue upon the face and hands? ”’ ine ‘The tale is too long to tell, even if I were inclined to nar- rate it,” said the young woman. “ Suffice it for me to observe that in becoming the wife of Lord Florimel, as I assuredly shall within the next half-hour, I am but wreaking a long cherished vengeance.”’ ‘‘ This is horrible, detestable, and shall not be,’”’ exclaimed the Unknown, with accents of desperation. “ Whatever be the risk — : “You will not run it!’ * pied Rao. ‘“‘ Hark, madam, a word in your ear! Let me tell you who you are —”’ And the disguised female, whom we must still call Rao for the present, whispered something in a low tone. “Yes — yes— you. know me!” exclaimed the siren charmer, in a voice of bitter vexation and her whole form trembling with rage and disappointment. ‘‘ But I defy your threats — I defy you to prove aught of that lascivious lite to which you alluded. Woman, whoever you may be, I accept you as arival, and again do I defy you! ”’ added the Unknown, goaded to desperation. ‘Ah! madam, or rather, my lady,” said Rao, in a voice of mingled mockery and triumph, “ you will not repeat your defiance, when I tell you that the boudoir of love, of darkness, and of mystery is no secret to me. For I have been there, — yes, been there, when you clasped the infatuated young nobleman in your arms and ee him the partner of your frantic pleasures.”’ “No, no, ’tis false! Tis an invention, a calumny, —a foul éalumny on your part! ”’ cried the Unknown, quivering with emotions of terrible rage, and maddening shame, and burning hatred. ‘*°*Tis true, my lady, ’tis true!’ cried Rao. Then, drawing forth something from her pocket, the disguised female said, CONMUC Doo Sj (C(O)