Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

A CONFIDENTIAL VALK. 55 CHAPTER VI. A CONFIDENTIAL TALK. The second pull at the door-bell of Arthur Eldridge’s bachelor apartment in Thirty-second street was even more vigorous than the first, and whoever was outside evidently intended to be admitted. ‘‘Confound it!’’ exclaimed Mr. Eldridge, from the desk, where he was sorting some papers, ‘‘it seems as if I can get no peace to-night. That makes the fourth person who has been here since nine o’clock, and it isn’t yet half-past. This one means to get in, too, I should judge. So you may as well open the door, Peters,’’ this resignedly. The servant obeyed, and aman in evening dress, with his overcoat unbuttoned, (for it was a night in May), made his way into the room. ‘*Hello, old man,”’ he cried, familiarly, throwing himself into the most comfortable chair within reach, ‘‘I just heard the news at the club and hustled right up here to find out if it is true.’”’ ‘The news?’’ repeated Eldridge, tossing a packet of let- ters into the waste-paper basket. ‘‘What news?”’ ‘Why, yes, about your leaving for parts unknown at no remote date. Is it true, or has old Dame Rumor lied again? If it is so, I hope you'll enlighten me, at least, as to when, where, and particularly why you are going. Sick of town, or is it the weather?”’ | ‘‘One question at a time, please,’’ returned Eldridge, pushing the cigarettes toward his friend and making a mo- tion to his valet, EONMIE OO KS (E(0) im