Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

‘WHERE CAN SHE BE ?” 175 When the actress’ toilet was finished she ordered some fresh coffee, in which she burned alittle kirsch, and the two women abandoned themselves to one of those long, confidential chats so dear to the female heart. ‘‘By the way,’’ remarked Mrs. French, glibly. ‘‘Do you ever see or hear anything of your sister?’’ ‘‘Never. Not once since I left home have I seen or heard of her.’’ ‘Well, I must tell you,’’ continued Mrs. French, drop- ping two lumps of sugar into her demi-tasse. ‘‘She came to my apartment just after you had sailed and raised no end of a tempest, leaving mein a state of absolute collapse. She went on at a great rate, accusing me in plain terms of spiriting you away, and as there was no arguing with her, I let her rage until she was through. When she had gone I was almost sick. I was under the impression that she meant to follow you, if possible, and skirmish around the globe until she finally got track of you. I don’t know what did become of her, either, as it appears she left the old home soon after, leaving no address or word of any kind.’’ ‘* Left the old home!’’ repeated Florine, in consternation. ‘“Where can she be?” ‘‘Fleaven alone knows; no one on earth seems to, for I really took pains to inquire, both out of curiosity and for your sake.’’ | After this the conversation flagged, as the actress appar- ently had lost interest and seemed preoccupied, so, as the clock struck, Mrs. French arose and took her leave, with many kisses and the promise to meet her friend later in the gambling-rooms. Mademoiselle Florine appeared unusually well that morn- ing,as she stepped forth, clad in her Paris toilet of gray Gomichbookssco Lf