Mrs. Bob: A Novel — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

THE MAN WHO WORE THE WHITE PRIMROSE. 81 race until she is fast leaving all competitors in the lurch. Thus, quite a heterogeneous company is assembled, and under other circumstances Bob would be inter- ested in watching the crowd, as he is fond of such things. Just now he is wholly engrossed with his search for the distinguishing mark of the white primrose. And he finds it. That start betrays the fact, and ite stands there eritting his teeth, his eyes fastened upon Guy Liv- ingstone, the Virginian, who moves about, his gaze ever and anon turned upon the grand staircase as though expecting some one to descend that way— pinned to the left lapel of his Prince Albert coat of gray cloth is a single fower—the white primrose. ‘“Who could believe a gentleman would descend to such a depth, as to treat his own cousin in this way. It shows he has a poor appreciation of her, confound him. He takes her odd ways, her frank manner, her unconventional, unaffected style of doing things as a lack of knowledge concerning what the world calls propriety. The fool! I would have given some thing to have seen the little lady after she read that letter. I can imagine her fine show of temper—not that I blame her a particle—I can almost see her walking up and down her room, with that quick, graceful step, her pretty face, usually so roguish, marked with a frown. Good Heavens! I must stop this mono- logue or I shall get excited myself, and at this mo- ment I desire to be particularly cool and collected. ‘(See how the fellow struts around, and he a Vir- Gomicbookssco