Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 208: what you’re looking at

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

“T CANNOT BE YOUR JUDGE.” 199 CHAPTER XXIV. ‘‘T CANNOT BE YOUR JUDGE.”’ Dick was blessed with all the wholesome repugnance of a sensible man for ‘‘scenes’’ and seldom failed to make his escape whenever there was a chance of one’s occurring in his presence. Yet here was material enough for a modern melodrama of the most pronounced type, and the worst of it was, that he himself occupied no mean position in it. Willingly would he have given all he possessed to be able to blot out forever those few moments from his life and memory. It was too late to draw back; her eyes were fastened upon him with a look of agonized supplication. She stag- gered again and would have fallen at his feet, had he not caught her. Then she drew herself away from him and stood erect, as motionless as though stiffening into stone. “T saw all, and you are mad—mad, I say,’’ he uttered, in a voice which he scarcely recognized as his own. ‘‘So I may be,’’ she returned. The glitter had died out of her eyes, and her face was drawn and haggard. | ‘You intended to poison him!’’ She did not move. | ‘‘T do not deny it,’’ she returned, calmly. “My God! what a woman you are,’’ exclaimed Dick, ‘‘not to have the grace, at least, to defend yourself!”’ ‘‘What would be the use?’’ she demanded, impassively. ‘You say you saw it all. I would scorn to lie about it.”’ Dick’s first impulse was to thrust her from him, to bid EORNIELOOO KS, EC) im