Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 228: what you’re looking at

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

THE SPANIARD 211 accents, as well as with the fullest candour in her looks, “it is my firm belief that I never can regard you with any other sentiment than that of friendship. And now, If appeal to the generosity of your nature, and to every feeling of delicacy which must harbour in such a heart as yours, that you will leave me at once. Yon mansion where I dwell is the house of a benefactor, and I dare not stand the chance of suffering in his estimation. He is absent, too, at this moment, but my brother is there. and a very dear friend also, there are numerous servants likewise, I am well known in this neighbourhood — In short, every instant that you remain here threatens to compromise me most seriously. What would be thought if I were seen walking here with a stranger? ”’ “A stranger to those whom you have named,” rejoined the count, reproachfully, ‘“‘ but no stranger to you. Will you not accord me a few minutes, — only a few minutes, — while I tell you all that I have thought, all that I have done, and all that I have hoped, during the four years which have elapsed since last I saw you? ”’ “Well, then, a few minutes, Ae eonrn Elizabeth, ‘* and only a ae fone she aHded, impressively, ‘‘ because I must not be compromised.”’ ‘““ Oh, this coldness — this coldness,’’ ejaculated the count, vehemently, “‘ after I have told you that I came to England expressly to search after you! It is more than I can endure. Have pity upon me, Elizabeth,—I beseech you to have pity upon me! — for never in this world was a woman the object of a love so devoted as that which my heart cherishes for you. Love! Itisa passion transcending far all that poets ever dreamed or romancists ever depicted in the form of love. It 1s a passion which has become so interwoven with the very principles of my existence that if it be doomed to pro- longed disappointment, 1t will drive me to put an end to my sorrows and perish in the blood of a distracted suicide.’’ The count spoke with a wild impetuosity, mingled with a solemn earnestness, that for the moment overawed Eliza- beth Paton, and even made her afraid. Not afraid for her- self, for she was a woman who scarcely knew the name of fear, and there was no Catalonian tower at hand to which she might be conveyed, and where she might be retained captive, But she was afraid on account of that man who 1) Gomicdoo cS (EO)