The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

THE BARONET— THE MARQUIS 115 of that chair from which I was drivelling idiot enough to release you? Think you that I have forgotten the storm of reproaches — the tempest of upbraidings — which, though sweeping forth from the lips of an angel of beauty, were withering and blighting as if they came from the tongue of a hideous fiend? Oh, now, haughty beauty that you are, — cunning intriguer that I have discovered you to be, — I will revel in your charms and make my very love my vengeance.”’ Venetia remained calm and immovable as Lord Leveson thus assailed her with all the lashing, scourging power of the language of menace; but still the lurid light shone in her eyes, and it was evident that her composure was of that terrible kind which is produced by utter desperation. At length, when the marquis had done speaking, her lips wavered for a moment, but no words came forth, they were stifled as it were in her very throat. But suddenly recollect- ing what she had for the last few minutes forgotten, namely, that Sir Douglas Huntingdon heard all that passed and had promised to rescue her, she experienced an instantaneous buoyancy of the spirit and a brightening up of the counte- nance; for the thought now struck her that she might not only be saved from the embraces of that loathsome old man, but also revenged upon him for this and other wrongs. Again there was a wavering of her lips, and this time the words which she meant to speak came forth. “To-morrow night,’ she said, in a low deep tone, “ at eleven o’clock punctually, I will call at Leveson House. But, my lord, as my reputation is now to be placed com- pletely in your power, may I hope that it will be held sacred? ”’ ‘““ However great a villain a man may be in his endeavours to obtain possession of a woman,’’ answered the marquis, “he does not usually trumpet forth his success. And as for the revenge which I cherish against you, it will be fully wreaked when you sink a victim into the arms of my con- summated desires. Therefore, as a nobleman, as a gentle- man, and as a man, I swear by everything solemn and sacred that the secret of your surrender shall be retained in my breast as inviolably and profoundly as if it reposed only with the dead.” Having thus spoken, the Marquis of Leveson made a low bow, turned abruptly away, and quitted the boudoir. Cconnicloooks (C(O)