F. Anstey,
The Tinted Venus: A Farcical Romance
“ He was made to wait long that evening, until he almost began to think that the marble was deserted altogether; but at length, as he watched, the statue gave a long, shuddering sigh, and seemed to gaze round the saloon with vacant eyes."Where am I?" she murmured. "Ah! I remember. Leander, while you slumbered, impious hands were laid upon this image!""Dear me, mum; you don't say so!" exclaimed Leander."It is the truth! From afar I felt the indignity that was purposed, and hastened to protect my image, to find it in the coarse grasp of godless outlaws. ”
