Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 269: what you’re looking at

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

260 SAVED. errand with as great dispatch as possible, and did not breathe freely until she was once more on the road home. To-day, as she entered the office, with the dog pattering beside her, it seemed more imposing than ever, and her timidity increased fourfold. Mr. Booker, the dignified clerk, with his bushy black mustache, was busily writing, and paid not the slightest attention to her as she advanced, quaking, toward the desk. But taking her couragein both hands, she managed to gasp out: “If you please, sir—I’m Nora.’’ Then he glanced up, almost fiercely, she thought. ‘‘And who may Nora be?’’ he demanded. | ‘It’s Miss Rose Delmar’s maid I am, sir,’’ she replied, and then added, more confidently: ‘‘The doctor sent for me.” | ‘‘Oh,’’ was the response, as he stretched out one hand languidly to the bell and struck it. ‘‘So you’re the person, are you?’’ He did not smile; there was no encouragement in his tone, so Nora did not venture to address another syllable to him. She was trembling violently with nervousness and apprehension, but her tongue seemed paralyzed; she could only await the development of events. A ray of hope entered her mind, however, as she reflected that there was a bare chance that the doctor might not be quite so overawing. At any rate, she must soon find out the worst. A bell-boy slouched up. “Go up to sixty-two and tell Doctor Parkin that the woman he sent for has arrived. Be quick now,’’ ordered COnmcoookxs. Com