His Other Wife: A Novel — page 122: what you’re looking at

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

114 GORDON WARREN’S PUPIL. end of the snowy web of zephyr wool that Faith had daintily twisted, turbanwise, about her head, and gathered under her throat, so that her fresh face glowed like a pink hyacinth peeping out of a snow-bank. ‘‘Yes, quite warm enough; you know the exercise will prevent me from feeling the chilliness of the evening. Let’s hurry or we shan’t have much of a row.” She tripped on before him as she spoke, her delicate arched feet glancing out from the edge of a short skirt of crimson, above which a gray serge tunic was looped. ‘*You give a man no chance to be dignified when he waits on you, Miss Hilary. How do you suppose a fellow of my weight and inches is to keep up with that bigest pace of yours?” ‘‘Well, what’s the use of being so dignified when one is in quest of pleasure? Why not you run, too?” ‘‘That would be in the last degree unprofessional and unbecoming a barrister whose aim and end is to wear the ermine some day.” ‘‘Do you think of becoming a solemn member of the judiciary ?” | ‘‘Don’t I look solemn enough to think of it?” ‘‘Yes, indeed; but sometimes I fancy there is more sunshine in your heart than one catches on the surface of your nature, and I imagine there are other positions that would suit you as well as or even better than the bench,” ‘* For instance?” 3 Eomicbooks:¢o