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Trollope, Thomas Adolphus, 1810-1892

"A Siren"

He was a man whose musical tastes had made him conversant
with the Divas of the stage, and familiar with the interior aspects
of Italian theatrical life;--one, too, whom circumstances had caused
to become specially well acquainted with the antecedent history of
this particular Diva now stretched on the sofa before him. Yet none
the less for all this did "beauty's tear," enhanced by beauty's
laced pocket-handkerchief, exercise on him its usual glamour.
Calumniated!--that lovely creature of matchless purity before him,--
matchless purity! so white was her throat; so round and slender her
waist; so daintily snowy her muslin drapery. Calumny! Of course it
was calumny. And how he could have poignarded the calumniators, and
taken the poor, fluttering, persecuted Diva to his bosom. The desire
to execute that latter portion of retributive and poetical justice
was making itself felt stronger and stronger within him every
minute, as he sat beside the sofa exposed to the full force of the
magnetic poison-current which was intoxicating him.
"Signora--" he said, putting his hand out to take hers, which she
readily gave him. His own hand shook, and he paused in his speech,
overcome for a moment by a sort of dizziness and a sudden rush of
the blood to his brow and eyes,--a veritable electric shock caused
by the contact of her hand with his.


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