A Parisian Romance — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

A PARISIAN ROMANCE. 97 old nobility, had done much to strengthen the social position, which his vast wealth and his ability as a financier had obtained for him. The morning after his visit to the Foyer de la Danse of the opera, the baron sat writing in a medium-sized apartment, half office, half study, on the ground floor of his hotel. Beyond it was an anteroom, with a door opening into a side street. In this room, it was the baron’s custom to receive such of his friends and clients, of both sexes, as, for one reason or another, it was not convenient or becoming to receive in his drawing-room or his office at the bank. If the walls could have spoken, they would have told many a tale, which we fancy the baron, disdainful as he pretended to be of public opinion, would not have cared to have repeated to the world at large. “There,” he said at last, throwing down his pen, and turning to a clean-shaven, middle-aged man, who stood at the other end of the room, apparently awaiting orders, “those letters are finished. Am- broise, give them to Jules, and tell him 1 shall be at -the bank by one o’clock. And bring me my dumb- bells.” “Very well, monsieur,” replied the man, gather- ing up the letters, and retiring by a door which led to the other part of the house. The baron pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet. As he did so, a look of vexation appeared upon his face, and he steadied himself against the GomichookstGo im