The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 361: what you’re looking at

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

OF LONDON. 269 Dead ! exclaimed she, at length 3 it is impossi- ble? Look, Frank, her back is not even leaning against the chair! Mary, in the name of Hea- ven! Frank, what have you done to her ? i was telling her what Rio Santo, heraflianced husband is, replied Percival. Oh, Diana, they were not my words that killed her—the blow is of a mors ancient date. Hush, cried Diana, interrupting him. Listen. I hear some noise on the staircase. She ran to secure the door, but it was too late $ she only reached it in time to meet Lady Camp- bell face to face. Mary and Frank, exclaimed the latter, who be~ came pale with anger. What, Miss Stewart, ad- ded she, giving to her voice an expression of dis- dain,is your mother’s house a fitting place for such a meeting ? Madam, replied Diana, blushing, the momen® is ill choson— She pointed to Miss Trevor, who remained mo- tionless, stiff, and as if petrified. Every moment is a fitting one to feel and ex- press indignation against a base and inexcusable action, Miss Stewart, drily replied Lady Camp- bell, who had no idea of the dreadful state of her niece, Oh, madam! madam! ineapable any longer of restraining the strong feeling of dislike sheenter~ tained towards Lady Campbell, Frank Percival wasjust asking me who was the executioner—the pitiless executioner—who had been inhuman enough to torture, even unto death this sweet dear girl, Eomichookstcom