The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

ALEXIS OLIVER © 119 Scarcely were the words spoken when the waiter entered the coffee-room, and said to Alexis Oliver, “‘ If you please, sir, a person wishes to speak to you on very partie business.”’ “‘ The deuce! ”’ exclaimed the young gentleman, somewhat sobered by an announcement which evidently struck him as something ominous. “I don’t like these persons who just want to speak to you. Waiter, what sort ofa looking man is he? ” ““ Well, sir,”’ replied the functionary thus appealed to, ‘‘ he looks something like a sporting character, — cutaway coat with brass buttons, sir, red whiskers, sir — ”’ pr OE, you had better see him,” exclaimed Stanley. ‘“ I dare say it is some fellow connected with the turf, and who has heard that you are making up a book.” “‘ Ah, very likely!” ejaculated Alexis, clutching at the hope. “ Let him come in, waiter.”’ ‘Come in? Yes, sir,” said the waiter, and he shuffled away with that peculiar coffee-room walk which it would seem every accomplished waiter must necessarily possess; but the man had upon his countenance a certain sly expres- sion which failed not to attract the notice of Captain Stanley and Christian. ‘“‘ The truth is,” said Alexis Oliver, when the waiter had retired, ‘‘ I have got four or five cursed little things. hanging over my head. Mrs. Oxenden has given me the money two or three times to pay them, but it has always burned a hole in my pocket, as the boys say at school. So it rather frightens one when a suspicious message is delivered.’’ The door of the coffee-room was now thrown open, and the visitor walked in. The door swung back on its hinges, but the waiter just placed it ajar, that he might listen outside to the proceedings, the nature of which he more than half- suspected, and perhaps chiefly so from the fact that when the person in the cutaway coat had entered the hotel, another individual in a more seedy garb remained lurking against a lamp-post opposite. The individual in the cutaway coat advanced with a polite bow toward the table at which the three young gentlemen were seated, and Alexis Oliver’s looks showed that he was by no means reassured by the appearance of his visitor. “You, sir, are Mr. Oliver?” said this person, at once COnniclooolKks (C(O)