The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

INTREPIDITY 89 been no communion between you and Gertrude? Did I not lock her in this room? And whether you were here concealed at the time, or whether by some means you penetrated hither afterward, in any case must you be aware that your writing-desk furnished me with the proofs of your criminality.” “That you are base enough to ransack my desk, my lord, is probable,”’ cried Editha, the excitement of the scene and the consciousness of her safety inspiring her with all the presence of mind requisite to enact the part of outraged innocence, ‘‘ but that you discovered in that desk aught whereof I need be ashamed, I positively deny.”’ “By heavens! this is too much,’ exclaimed Curzon, his naturally handsome countenance becoming distorted with rage. ‘“‘ The proofs, madam, are in my possession; the note of your accomplice, Lady Lechmere, the forgeries — ”’ “‘ Coward, liar!’ exclaimed Editha, springing like a tigress from the couch. ‘ If there be forgeries in the case, ’tis you have forged them. Ah! doubtless the trammels of matrimony are inconvenient to a man who wishes to pursue his own numerous intrigues, and therefore you seek to get rid of your wife. But no, my lord, I defy you, I defy you! ”’ The Earl of Curzon now gazed with unmixed astonishment upon Editha. Indeed, for a few moments he was utterly confounded. The tone of confidence in which she spoke, the genuine indignation which appeared to inspire her, the undismayed assurance with which she met his looks, and indeed almost beat them down with her own proud and haughty ones, all this struck the nobleman speechless and motionless. And, heavens! how grandly, how sublimely beautiful seemed the Countess of Curzon at that moment, no longer soft, languishing, and amorous like a dusky hour of Mohammed’s paradise, but bursting forth into the personification of Bellona the goddess of war, so that her very beauty became terrible to gaze upon, and the eyes that were wont to burn with the fires of love now shot forth blasting lightnings. With the scant night-dress alone draping her form, her luxuriant purply sable hair flowing in heavy masses over her shoulders and down her back, her heaving bust all exposed in its glowing firmness, one arm gracefully curved, the other extended so as with im- perious gesture to enhance the force of her language, her Cconnicloooks (C(O)