Her Faithful Knight — page 338: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXXII. AND LAST. Close upon nine o’clock on the evening of the same day Darcy Derrick sat alone in his flat near Addison Road station. The result of the inquiry had been all he could desire. The woman he so passionately loved, after the fashion so peculiar to men of his stamp, was alive, and sooner or later he was resolved that she should be his. She was his wife, and he could, and would, carry her off from Aylmer Read’s care at the earliest opportunity. Already he had called at Ashgrove road, and had vainly entreated, demanded and threatened on the subject of her detention, and he had since then consulted his solicitor as to the best means of getting hold of her, and had received a legal opinion every way favorable to his views. Naturally she would in time grow to love him as ardently as he could wish. Darcy was frankly, incapable of believing that any woman would long continue to resist him. And in the meantime she and her fortune would be his. Already he had arranged for detectives to watch her every movement lest she should endeavor to again slip through his fingers, and he was mentally preparing a romantic abduction by night of his own wife after a style which commended itself highly to his wholly un-English imagination. Meantime an adoring husband, undeservedly deserted by his lawful wife, stands in need of consolation, and with this aim Darcy had caused a dainty little cold supper CoOmicoookks (C@)