When London Sleeps — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

ot A 296 “A BIT OF A COQUETTE. ‘‘No, Sammy Blythe,’? she interrupted, with a commanding. gesture, ‘‘you shan’t strike him. Remember, he’s only a poor foreigner.”’ The wound to Sammy’s vanity was considerably eased by these last words, which seemed to place him on a superior planetotheother. He lowered his arin, but, nevertheless, he could not refrain from saying, with a scowl at Mordicano: ‘Well, then, don’t let him be so blooming impu- dent. We English stand a lot if sauce from these poor foreigners, as you call them, fora time, but when it gets a bit too thick, and they see they’ve trod upon the lion’s tail, they’re precious quick in scuttling back to their burrows again. You’ve had my ultimatum, Mr. Hurdy Gurdy, and don’t you forget it!’ But Mordicano was scarcely listening to him. He was too occupied in gazing at Carrie, whose pretty face had long ago made an impression upon his suscepti- ble nature. ~**Ah, adorable mees!’? he exclaimed with an.ex- travagance of admiration which made Sammy grind his teeth with rage. ‘‘You plead for the poor for- eigner! ‘The Italiano kneels to you, and worships your goodness and beauty.”’ “Here,’’ interrupted Sammy, touching Carrie imploringly upon the arm, ‘‘do you allow it to cackle to you like that ?”’ Carrie looked from one to the other with a little smile upon her lips. It must be confessed that the fait Miss Jones was just a bit of a coquette. ¢ ‘ Well,’? she sai Il,’’ she said at last, very demurely, “‘why