The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER III THE INTRUDERS Ir was now past ten o’clock; and lights were burning in a bedchamber at Mr. Page’s abode. Upon the couch in that apartment lay Pauline Clarendon, completely dressed, but with her luxuriant hair all dishevelled. Having been prevailed upon by the treacherous Julia to take a glass of wine at supper, she had almost instantaneously fallen into a condition of complete stupefaction; and in that state was she borne up to the bedchamber by Mrs. Page and Shickster Sal, who had apparently lent herself with willing - ness to the infamous designs of her mistress. Yes, upon that couch reposed the defenceless maiden, utterly unconscious of the perils which environed her. Noth- ing could be more graceful than the total abandonment as it were to which her form was surrendered up; for precisely in the same position in which she had been deposited by Julia and the servant was she now lying on that bed. Her garments, the least thing drawn up, revealed the well-shaped foot and the rounded ankle as far as the robust swell of the leg; her arms reposed in the motionless grace of a gentle curvature; and her lips, slightly apart, afforded glimpses of the pearly teeth. And over her leaned the Prince of Wales; over that sleep- ing, almost inanimate form he leaned, his eyes devouring her charms with a gloating avidity. As the boa-constrictor holds its prey in its hideous coils for a long time ere it ap- peases its appetite with the luscious festival, so did the reptile voluptuary feast his imagination with the delicious banquet of beauty that lay before him. His looks wandered slowly from that flood of dark brown hair which covered the pillow with its glossy luxuriance to the cheeks that were 17 GomiilGyaooks (S©@)