The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

TO WHICH WE CAN GIVE NO TITLE § 163 himself entering into a comparison between her beauty and that of every other lovely female who had submitted to his embraces. Their number was legion, it was true, but still in a rapid survey did he glance at them all, not forgetting Octavia Clarendon, Mrs. Fitzherbert, Lady Letitia Lade, Mrs. Brace, the milliner, the Countess of Jersey, and the Duchess of Devonshire; and he came at length to the conclusion that none was to be compared with Venetia. Nor in this mental review of his almost countless conquests amongst beauties of all grades and ranks, from the duchess to the milliner, from the countess to the ballet-dancer, and from the haughtiest dame to the humblest servant-girl, — nor in this category, we say, did he forget to include Miss Bathurst, Agatha Owen, and Lady Ernestina Dysart. He remembered that the first-named had once been eminently beautiful; his mind still retained pleasurable impressions cf his amour with Agatha; but chiefly did his fancy gloat over the superb and voluptuous charms of the impassioned Ernestina. Between this lady, then, and Venetia did he hover in a few moments’ uncertainty, his memory com- paring their respective charms, — the eyes, hair, complexion, and bust of Ernestina, with the eyes, hair, complexion, and bust of Venetia; but at length, as above stated, he gave his decision in favour of the latter, Yes, for about Venetia there was all the first freshness of youth, the bloom upon the peach that has scarcely come in contact with the rude hand of man. And now, as the image of the beauteous creature had become paramount in his mind, to the exclusion of all the rest, he felt his impatience for her arrival augmenting every instant. He looked at his watch; it was ten minutes past nine — was she not coming? Yes; for scarcely had he asked himself the question when the door opened from the landing without, the velvet drapery was pushed aside, and Venetia was ushered into his presence. The curtain fell again, the domestic who had escorted her thither closed the door behind her, and the prince regent sprang forward to clasp her in his arms. Venetia had made her appearance closely veiled and ‘enveloped in an ample cloak, so as to avoid being recognized by the prince’s servants; but she now hastily threw off her bonnet and veil, dropped her cloak, and fell in all the COnniclooolks (SO)