A Parisian Romance — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

A PARISIAN ROMANCE. 31 It was not far, as she said, but it might as well have been miles, so far as her powers of loco- motion went. “It is a pretty serious matter,” said Henri, half laughing, “but I think we can manage it. I shall have to carry you, that’s all.” The girl flushed and shrank a little from him, but a twinge from the injured ankle forced her to keep his arm. “You need have no fear,” he continued, gently, “T can carry you easily, and there is really nothing else to be done.” She glanced up at him half-shyly, half-confi- dently. “Tam not afraid of you,” she said, and then she smiled. “You will trust me, then?” “Needs must, I suppose.” Instructing her to put one arm about his neck and rest her weight upon him, Henri stooped, and in another moment had raised her in his arms as easily and gently as if she had been a child. With her soft arm about his neck and her per- fumed breath fanning his cheek, the way seemed all too short. "When the inn was reached, Henri deposited his fair burden on the sofa in the parlor, and turned to explain the situation to a stout, rosy- cheeked lady who came hurrying in, in alarm, and whom the girl addressed as Aunt Reine. After ascertaining that the accident to the ankle (EOE OO KS im