Nor was it altogether the emotion of pleasure that was roused within
me. As I looked into her eyes, I had the pain of seeing myself in a
light that had not as yet come to me. I saw myself not the friend of
Henry Wilton, on the high mission of bringing to justice the man who
had foully sent him to death. In that flash I saw Giles Dudley hiding
under a false name, entering this house to seek for another link in the
chain that would drag this girl's father to the gallows and turn her
life to bitterness and misery. And in the reflection from the clear
depths of the face before me, I saw Imposter and Spy written large on
my forehead.
I mastered the emotion in a moment and took the seat to which she had
waved me.
I was puzzled a little at the tone in which she addressed me. There was
a suggestion of resentment in her manner that grew on me as we talked.
Can I describe her? Of what use to try? She was not beautiful, and
"pretty" was too petty a word to apply to Luella Knapp. "Fine looking,"
if said with the proper emphasis, might give some idea of her
appearance, for she was tall in figure, with features that were
impressive in their attractiveness. Yet her main charm was in the light
that her spirit and intelligence threw on her face; and this no one can
describe.
The brightness of her speech did not disappoint the expectation I had
thus formed of her. It was a finely-cultivated mind that was revealed
to me, and it held a wit rare to woman.
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