Penny Dreadfuls, 1900 · page 108 of 261
Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 108: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1900. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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i ‘as r AG - a ‘a ' - ‘ : ~ —_ :° . ‘ : : a 7 - si % J 7 25 f ¢ 4 ; «! m Ps = " eee) Feonie. | _ | 103 eS “Don’t wear that rigid scowl, please. Don’t be angry! If - you go to-morrow, let us part friends. You will write to me hear how events turn out. There is our waltz. Come. Alwyn & —come!”’ “TY shall waltz none to- night,” he said, moodily, “ET only came here to see you, and it is time I was gone.” “Then let us say good-by where we are, and part,” Miss De Montreuil responded, readily, holding out her hand. “Bon voyage and all success! I shall count the hours until lL hear from you.” He caught her suddenly in his arms—a fierce, passionate, straining clasp. “Leonie, Leonie! be true to me!” he cried. “I love you more than. my life! If I lose you—great heavens, I should go mad! You will not be poor—I swear it! I will work for you like a galley-slave! I will toil my fingers to the bone! Oh, my love, my bride, be true!” a? >> %,. ee «] will be true—if I can,” she added, mentally. | “Por pity’s sake, Alwyn, let me go. Some one comes!” _ 04 She lef him kiss her; then she flitted out of his arms like a spirit, and was gone. Back to the ball-room—back to the me crashing music—to the lights, the splendor, the admiration— | - all that life held that was worth living for to her. sy" He is And Alwyn Bartram stood for an instant alone, amid the tropical plants and pallid statues, with the same ‘dull sense a despair at his heart that had filled Estella Mallory’s not ~ many~days before. that dull sense of horrible pain. “She loves me, but she loves wealth better. And if I lose her—— a He could not finish the sentence. en minutes later, eho Ba ne came to say farewell to his hostess, she almost screamed a aloud at the sight of his white, drawn face. a _ “Good Heavens! Mr. Bartram, you are ill! You look like a walking corpse!” f a Be Ves, T am ill,” he said, hoarsely. “Pray excuse my hasty - departure, and—sood-night.” fs 3, as - He turned abruptly to go. As he did so, he enahe a last. glimpse of his idol—not waltzing, but leaning on the arm of old Rutherford, the millionaire, her exquisite face iaivaa' with smiles. He ground his teeth in jealous rage, and a sec- ____ ond later was out under the chill morning stars. i ist “a en -~ at once, will you not? You know how impatient I shall be to’ “Tf IT lose-my fortune, I lose my bride!” he thought, with © a IOOKS-GO ‘ * a { * y > & al 4.8) tien od 7+ ‘ = es ‘ : ¥ / i wat" i . R.0 © : J { : . : - r ’ : we ae de % eee > “ee. a | a. — < . » ¥,. el - a ~