Explore "The Scarlet Pimpernel" by Emma Orczy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Marguerite Blakeney had watched the slight sable-clad figure of Chauvelin, as he worked his way through the ballroom. Then perforce she had had to wait, while her nerves tingled with excitement.
Listlessly she sat in the small, still deserted boudoir, looking out through the curtained doorway on the dancing couples beyond: looking at them, yet seeing nothing, hearing the music, yet conscious of naught save a feeling of expectancy, of anxious, weary waiting.