The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 310: what you’re looking at

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

THE FOUR SIRENS 279 ' Miss Eglantine — thinking there must be more or less truth in the man’s words, having the term “ police ’’ still ringing ominously in her ear, and afraid of angering one who made himself as completely at home as if he had a conscious right to do so—forbore from pulling the bell, and whispered to Marion, ‘‘ Had we not better see what he really wants? Perhaps he will explain himself. Monsieur Bertin would scarcely have let him up unless he had full authority from madame.”’ ‘““Come, sir,’ said Marion, authoritatively, ‘“‘ explain.”’ “An explanation of my conduct is quickly given, my dears,’ said Mr. Shadbolt, ‘‘ and all the quicker, too, since I see that with regular female curiosity you are all four burning to know what brings your humble servant and ever faithful admirer to this here saloon. There are several reasons. In the first place, I knew very well I should have the pleasure, or at least stand the chance, of meeting some of the sweetest young creatures in all England. In the second place, I knew that the claret was superexcellent and the port stun- ning. In the third place, I had an eye to the cake and fruit. And in the fourth place, my dears, I have a little private business of a very particular character with the amiable old dowager.”’ The girls could scarcely repress a smile at the consummate impudence, the cool free-and-easy independence of Mr. Isaac Shadbolt, and even the proud Marion suffered her moist red lips to part sufficiently to reveal the brilliancy of her teeth. Mr. Shadbolt continued to leer familiarly at the sirens, while he demolished the cake and the pineapple, and then he helped himself to another tumbler full of wine. “And now,” he said, “‘ that I’ve refreshed myself a bit, I should take it as civil if either of you young ladies would just show me where I shall find the old dowager.”’ “ We will ring for a servant,” said HKglantine, now once more extending her snowy, beautifully modelled arm toward the bell-pull. “Stop, my dear! ’’ exclaimed Mr. Shadbolt. ‘ It is not worth while to trouble the slaveys; it would only throw the old lady into a flutter if we were to use so much ceremony, because she knows who I am. Just take the trouble to show me the way yourself; and if we do happen to pass through a dark passage together, I won’t snatch a kiss — oh, no, not I COMMICLOO© cS (CO)