Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

“Tl BELIEVE ’M IN LOVE.” 79 Plates were removed and replaced by others in the twink- ling of an eye, while wines of the choiest vintages filled the glasses. Arthur had not yet reached the age when a man, if he does not make an idol of his stomach, at least has every consideration for it, but, as a general thing, he was fond of good things to eat, and moreover, he realized very quickly when they were set before him. There were delicacies in season and out of season, but for some reason his appetite failed him almost utterly. He might as well have been dining off bread and water, for all the attention he paid to his meal. He vaguely realized that the canvas-back ducks were cooked, or rather un- cooked, in a way that would have made Dick’s mouth water, had he been there, and that the champagne frappe dropped from the bottle like snow-flakes, but that was about all. He could, however, have described the rings which graced the pretty hands opposite him, or have told how many there were of them, if asked, the following day. He was in the realms of dreamland, all through the din- ner, as he acknowledged to himself with shame afterward. He answered at random and did not volunteer half a dozen remarks from oysters to dessert. Turkish coffee was served in the conservatory, and Miss Clayton sipped hers, sitting beside him, watching the fish dart to and fro in the water at their feet. When she had finished she leaned back and chatted with him on a dozen different topics in an easy, intelligent man- ner that quite completed her conquest of him. It was after twelve when he took his leave. ‘(A pretty sort of impression I must have made on them all,’’ he remarked, to himself, as he was smoking his last GOmichbookssco