Her Faithful Knight — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

110 Mr. Darcy’s Comedy Company. “Don’t talk about Miss Knight in the same breath with Ella Carisbrooke!” cried Darcy, his Irish accent coming out strongly as he became excited. “It’s sacrilege.” “T agree with Bobby,” put in Jack Wyverley, a short, thick-set, old-young man, with a clean-shaved, red face, dazzling teeth, and bloodshot blue eyes. One of Jack Wyverley’s characteristics was that after he had imbibed a certain quantity of wine or spirits he was invariably seized with an excess of truthfulness. “You're just as bad as you were before you went abroad, Darcy,” he declared as he sipped his coffee and liquer. “Five years ago you were raving about Mrs. Lacy, and nobody might say before you she was anything short of a cherubim. When her divorce case came on last year the judge and jury weren't quite of your opinion. Your periodical passions are so sultry while they last that I consider it’s a great pity you didn’t engage Ella Caris- brooke instead of Miss Knight to play in this piece of yours.” “And why, pray?” “Carisbrooke is married to old Jackson, the stage man- ager at the Embankment Theatre. You’d have buzzed round her without singeing your wings overmuch; her language would have soon choked you off, and after a few little bills for champagne and diamonds, you’d have come out of it all right. But this Miss Knight appears to be a very disdainful sort of young lady, and nothing less than St. George’s, Hanover Square, would be likely to satisfy her.”’ “And why not, pray?” the Hon. Darcy asked again, turning his lustrous eyes upon his friend unflinchingly. Jack Wyverley stared, showed his handsome teeth in a wide grin, and finished off his liqueur. “T can only say that the future Mrs. Derrick, whoever EoOmicboo KS (S@)