The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 232: what you’re looking at

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

202 THE COURT OF LONDON ‘“‘ Can’t say,”’ returned the wary constable. ‘‘ Don’t wen- tur’ an opinion, miss, when things seems so wery orkard. You're safe out on it, and that’s enough for the present.’’ Rose was about to make some additional remark when a knock was heard at the door, and Mr. Grumley hastened to answer the summons. “ A gentleman wants to speak to Miss Foster,”’ said Mobbs, who appeared in the passage outside. “ A gentleman — to speak to me! ”’ exclaimed the orphan, overhearing the announcement; then, instantly reflecting that it might be Meagles, of whose treatment at the hands of the government she was totally ignorant, she said, hastily, ““T will receive him here, in the presence of — ”’ And she stopped short as she glanced toward Mrs. Brace; for it suddenly struck her that it was in the milliner’s house that Meagles had appeared to deliver her, and he would doubtless be alike astonished and indignant to observe that she was on friendly terms with the woman who had perse- cuted her. But all her uneasiness on this point was dissipated in a moment; for instead of beholding Meagles enter the room, as she had expected, she instantly recognized that same tall, thin, pale, but very handsome and interesting young man in whose company she had found herself for a few minutes on a certain occasion, in the waiting-room of the Earl of Desborough’s mansion. Advancing with evident timidity toward Rose, the young man took off his hat, bowed gracefully, and said, ‘‘ You doubtless have forgotten me, Miss Foster; indeed, I cannot possibly suppose that you remember to have ever met me before — ”’ And he stopped short, for he perceived the looks of Mrs. Brace fixed angrily and suspiciously upon him. Indeed, this lady recollected perfectly well having seen him before; but where or under what circumstances she could not, for the life of her, call to mind. | As for Mr. Grumley, not being interested in the present scene, he walked to the window, whistling one of the tunes to which he had sung a bacchanalian song at the free-and- easy where he had passed the greater portion of the previous night. “It would be a ridiculous affectation on my part, sir,”’ (@) MG 6)(0)©) KS |