A Social Meteor — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

A SOCIAL METEOR. 175 She read it through breathlessly, and then laid it down, pale with rage and shame. ‘How could she? I hate her, I hate her, the heartless little prude!” she muttered, with closed teeth. Hearing the maid’s returning footsteps, she tossed it hastily into a drawer and unlocked the door. There was nothing left for her to do but to go home, as it would look most foolish for her to linger here any longer alone. Accordingly she ordered Annette to make all preparations, and in another hour they were seated in a cab on their way to Desbrosses street. A fine, drizzling rain was falling when they reached Philadelphia, soaking everything and causing the melting snow to run in dirty streams down the street or form itself into muddy, lead- colored puddles in the middle of the sidewalk. Roofs dripped dismally, and wet, umbrella-bearing pedestrians jostled each other on every side. “Carriage, lady, carriage ?” “For goodness sake, let’s get out of this,” ex- claimed Mrs. Thorne, making her way between the rows of scraping cabmen. “It’s like running the gantlet.” EONMIE OOS (E@)