D'Artagnan, the King Maker — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXXI. HIS OWN HOST. The lone knight sat for a time in a drowsy state. “Shall I call the servants to remove these breakfast things? No, they would miss my friend, and, without questioning me, they might tell too much to their mas- ter. Why did D’Artagnan persist in going to seek his beloved, alone? Can he be jealous because I sounded the praises of this avowedly beautiful Jacinta? Absurd, to be jealous of a married man! a long, long marned man! Heigho! Madame du Vallon imagines me camping out in the mountains, little dreaming that I am in a veritable palace, with an inexhaustible larder and surpassing cellar!” He took up a bottle, and, sad to say, for a gentleman of a hundred thousand livres a year, drained it from the mouth. “Really, Portugal was not robbed of her fame in being called a wine-producer! She ought to be fos- tered. I will import some of these brands and be ’mem- orated like those who introduce nicotina and other weeds! Let but this count and colonel continue friends and I will exchange vines with him. But new beds and new acquaintances are dangerous! At any nick, our false play may be made palpable! Then, I must draw on my host, as D’Artagnan did, and recall his having misguided me! It is duplicity which takes the fine edge off honor ” and to console his fastidious conscience, he sang lustily: “Honor is like an isle with rocks about, No getting back when once without!” Hazily he reviewed the pictures on the wall, nailed on over the arabesques; they were Canos, and Riberas, with some Dutch masters; trophies, not art purchases, by the elder Marianda. A pink and sky-blue Guercino, depicted Luxury as a dancer. with provoking eyes, tossing locks and tempting smile; the lifelike figure CONNIE OOO KS. (CONN