Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 186: what you’re looking at

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

‘‘WHERE CAN SHE BE?” 177 These words were delivered as calmly and collectedly as though the two women were the merest strangers, who might have been introduced the day before. The young actress, who was gradually recovering herself, however, glanced sharply at her. The first shock of surprise was giv- ing way to a different feeling. ‘‘Certainly,’’ she responded, constrainedly, ‘‘by all means let us walk in the garden.”’ Neither spoke again, as they made their way along the broad, smooth path, lined on either side with foliage, so dense that only occasional glimpses of the blue sky over- head might be caught. The actress sauntered along with an easy, Swinging gait, as though she was out for a morn- ing promenade and had made up her mind that neither care nor anxiety should take any part init. Her comjan- ion moved with lowered eyes and an expression of ill-con- cealed emotion on her mouth, which was in direct contrast to the half-smiling lips and bright looks of the other. They passed a number of people, most of whom were bound Casino-ward; Russians with bristling mustaches and beetling brows; travelers from all parts of the world and in all conditions of society; groups of pretty women, both in the world and out of it, some diamond-decked and with brazen faces; others in the quietest toilets and of the most modest demeanor; all bent upon the same errand, and each, perhaps, armed with a ‘‘system.’’ Before the shrine of the fickle goddess, at Monte Carlo, caste is lost sight of; soubrettes may elbow princesses, and jockeys press against millionaires. When a somewhat secluded spot among the trees was reached, Rose broke the painful silence. ‘‘At last I have found you, Florence,’’ she uttered. Gomichbookssco