Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 235: what you’re looking at

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

‘them in those latter days, aa yet ae ‘are a : earnestly. sweet.” uh Ree ; ae ; “Mademoiselle De Montreuil does, : and has ‘things monsieur does not dream of in his’ philos ophy,” | answered, gayly. “I like these old songs, and yet i is nearly eleven years since I sang that before” = = ss He started as if he had been arses and looked at at What did it mhean——this bewildering hehe if coineidenc 2e8 a ; Nearly eleven years ago, too, since he had heard his ragite sing: it in the old Chelsea homestead! _ a ily A wild, impossible idea flashed thaw ‘hts brain, and ‘set his heart ‘throbbing madly. But a second later he coul ale have laughed aloud at himself in the bitterness of his self- “scorn. nes Am I falling into my dotage at eight-and-thirty, tat x think such things § ¢ Do I expect to live a chapter out of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ or the ‘Castle of Otranto, or any oth o romaunt of wonders? My little, pale-faced, shy-eyed wife, and this superb, haughty, magnificent daughter of the gods, one and the same! Bah! Alwyn Bartram; you have been a fool all your see sp grow a greater fool with every mines year.” | i eile The silvery voice—sweet and clear as crystal Weenllog ” | him. She looked very gracious and gentle to-night—this ° ip: 4 lifted lady, who held all mankind at arm’s-length—and the _ smile in the liquid eyes, | on the perfect lips, ‘was s,s aia a 7 rd AP Fah fascinating. aia He yielded himself to ahi siren’ S ree spell, as in wha Aye days he had yielded to her cousin. The rosy fetters close 1 tighter and tighter about him. The lion was hopelessly _ meshed in the golden glitter of her eyes and smile. tonto) He let himself drift to his fate in very. desperation ; he yielded to the subtle witchery of voice and smile without one effort to resist. et | “Tet the worst come!” he thought, ee his fatalist’s reck- lessness. “I am equal to either fortune; I will sit in the sunshine whilst I can; when I am cast forth into the outer darkness, where so many better men have gone before, T will be ready to face the worst; Mademoiselle De Montreuil, ‘the refuser,’ as they name her, shall have : a chance to refuse phi : another victim speedily. And when it comes, and I know tl worst, I can go back to Italy and paint my pictures, a and be come 4 misanthrope, and a sneerer, and a woman-hater, lik the rest.” Mem i All the long evening the artist lingered by ‘teats mde: of enchantress, with a moody inflexibility, wort ry of a bi cause. And she never once ee him, For a woac she let Raesncet be monopolized. ¥ e ‘ in dan iy ) int AI ‘ Mes ¢ ; \ ne ) wi ;