The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 212: what you’re looking at

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

A CHICAGO ROMANCE. | The last man I expected to meet as I was going down State street was George Danvers, for the last time I had seen him was in Paris, and he had then informed me that he never expected to return to America. Ten years before _ we had both been residents of Chicago, and the greater part of these ten years had been passed by him in the Old World. He had a comfortable fortune and could indulge in whims. And one of his whims was travel, although I never could understand just why he wished to exile himself so much as he did. There was a good deal of surprise in my greeting on State street, and I did not know but I had reason to be offended, as only a week before J had received a letter from him, in which he had made no mention of revisiting Chicago. Whether he detected this, he at once said: “Well, old boy, you are surprised to see me, arn’t you? I haven’t time now to tell you why I am here, but I want to repose a bit of confidence in you. I never have had but one secret from you in my life, and if you will dine with me at the Palmer House to-night I would like to tell you that one.” CORnNIECLOOOMKS (SO)