That Girl of Johnson's — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S, o 103 CHAPTER XXIII. BACON AND EGGS, ~ Dolores slept, not because of young Green’s wish that she should sleep, but because she was worn out from watch- ing and anxiety, and fell into a dreamless slumber almost as soon as her head touched the pillow; and it was broad daylight when she again woke to every-day life. A dreary day it was; above the half curtain of her win- dow the rain swirled in mad eddies, and dashed and splashed and ran wild races down the tiny panes. The wind moaned drearily through the pines and around the corners, breaking into gusty fits of fury now~-and then at the windows and doors. Outin her pen Brindle lowed lonesomely, and the cocks paused in their draggled strut- ting to crow defiance to the gray world. Dolores opened her eyes slowly and looked out at the new day. Gradually, one by one, the events of the past few days came to her mind, and she lay still, letting them come, her mind too much exhausted to fight against them, so that they filed silently as the tall pines before her. When she reached the present she aroused herself; she pushed back the coverings gravely and arose. Her long, - soft hair fell in shining strands to her knees. It formed a vail about her, out of which her pure, pale face looked like an old portrait, colorless, save for the straight red line of her lips. She crossed the tiny room to the window and drew aside one corner of the curtain to look out at the rain; she pushed her hair back from her face as though it annoyed her; her eyes were solemn and beautiful. Out in the shed Brindle was lowing lonesomely. Her voice roused Dolores, and she quickened her movements, combing out her hair and twisting 1t in a knot at the back of her head, It was GComichoo cS (e(@) m