A Social Meteor — page 187: what you’re looking at

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

_A SOCIAL METEOR. 177 antlers just over one of the doors bore testimony to his success in the Adirondack regions. Hun- dreds of volumes-filled the book-cases which hid the walls, and solemn-faced marble busts stared from every nook and corner. “So you're back again, are you?” was his greeting, as he deposited an apology for a kiss upon her cheek. “Yes, I’m back,” she answered in the same en- thusiastic tone. “Did you want to see me about anything particular? Because I’m as tired as a dog, and would like to he down a little while be- fore dinner, if possible.” “Well, yes, there was one little thing I wanted to tell you about that’s happened since you went> away,” he answered slowly, glancing contempla- tively down at his well polished boot. She questioned him with her eyes. Mr. Thorne rose to his feet. He was a short, stout man of about fifty, with a rubicund face, and small, sleepy eyes. He had the reputation of being an epicure, and of this he was very proud. He was also considered a great joker, and a good after dinner speaker, which inflated his portly bosom still more. To his wife, how- ever, he was nothing but a gourmand, and Gomichboo SS (Eo)