His Grace — page 227: what you’re looking at

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

HIS GRACE. 221 myself, knowing that my personal participation in the revels would be of that passive kind which soon palls upon the participator. The street was blocked with carriages and the house with guests, insomuch that it took me a good ten minutes to reach the landing at the top of the stairs, the nose of my hostess, /ate reful- gens, serving me as a beacon towards which to shape my course. I gathered that she must have been blow- ing it more than usual, and consequently that she must be more than usually out of temper, which indeed, I found to be the case as soon as I joined her. “Oh, how do you do?” she said in an acrimonious tone. ‘“ Your sister has been inquiring for you; she thought you weren’t coming. The Duke of Hurst- bourne has been here for ever so long. He seems bent upon making a night of it.” I edged my way on towards the ballroom without stopping to ask her to explain herself. I know what women are when their tempers have been upset; they are just like certain breeds of dogs, who, the moment that they have become excited, must needs bite some- body and would as soon bite their best friend as any- body else. Hurstbourne, I presumed from Lady Deverell’s remarks, was making fierce love to Miss St. George somewhere or other; but I really couldn’t help it ifhe was. The utmost that I could do was to see for myself what he was about, and then endeavor to restrain the noble ire of Mr. Paul Gascoigne, sup- posing that gentleman to be present. However, it was some little time before I could see anything, except the backs and heads of persons immediately in front of me. It was all very well for Lady Charles Gas- coigne to assert that Lady Deverell knew nobody, and Gomichoo (@) cS (E(0) m