Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

0 eh Mr, ‘Alwyn B : Bees Gy, ea - passing in Miss Mallory’s mind. “Bren § ioral i _ which he was stone blind. Gree ait ede am pe ogy “Drat the man!” exclaimed Heten 2 Ma lory’s - woman. “Where his eyes? Can’t he see that pc ds dead in love with his handsome ras an | 8 pet on the match bah all her heatté The 1 nor oe fis sie to pine ier sient See for all he cares. | te ‘all al ce, - these men! Thank the Lord Be never had sehen’ to « do > with | a them !” a artaigh: | oame | The possibility that Mr. Alwyn Bovtpas mi oht es as Peden be i in love” with somebody else as Estella was with him “never. s - seemed to enter into the range of their thoughts. a But the fatal truth came home to the girl rssie: ‘a3 _ sat by her idol’s side one misty September twilight, the « dre ing-room all to themselves: be ae ieee ~It was a hazy, overcast afternoon, with a ‘threatening re 5 rain in the lowering sky, and a bleak, easterly wind whistling _ ; shrilly up the deserted street.. That easterly wind had driven — Helen to bed with nervous headache, and kept Mr. Bartram — * and Miss Mallory, the younger, confined to the house. = He had been reading aloud to her her pet poem, Phaeksloy : Hall,” charming her for the thousandth time with those deep, — melodious tones. Now the book was thrown aside, and in the bs tender twilight dreamy silence fell between them. | ee ha ay der ¢” Mr. Rasteain said, irate “You i te on me, I suppose, when I am gone. r it ‘{ 8 on Mon- ay Sah Py ~~ “On Monday !’ 7 Estella said, with a sort of @ gasp; “and this is Saturday evening !” ee And then her voice suddenly failed her, and she © Tooke at him with wild, wide eyes. _ se _ Sapient 3 ni - Alwyn Bartram saw that look, ae iis hear him. — Her cherished secret, so closely hidden, as ‘she ‘none, “was : very large print—poor child—and easily read. ) And_ he had not meant to make love to. her, ‘either— | innocent little girl—and yet in a thousand indirect ways had done it from the first. Tle saw. that sudden wh 1g of the fair face, that wild dilation of the wonderful. brow eyes, and the sharpest pang of sagen te he- had ever. piereed his careless heart. | pe coe i “What a wretch I am!” he choses a ri heartless wretch! And this child is as innocent of th ing of the yarn ‘to flirt’ as the babe - in Yio erad aa