The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 213: what you’re looking at

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

206 A Chicago Romance. His invitation was accepted, and at seven that evening we were seated at a table in a private room. Soup went the way of all the world, fish followed the soup, and a roast duck was on its way after the soup and fish, but George said nothing of his secret. Our talk was all com- monplace, about men and women we had known, and as the dessert was served he said: “Do you ever hear anything of Mrs. Archer?” “Mrs. Archer! No, I do not remember her.” “Mrs. Fred Archer. Her maiden name was Lawson, Helen Lawson.” “Oh! that flirt. Yes, I remember her now. She jilted a dozen good men. She had no conscience, no principle, and I always disliked her.” “There, my boy, don’t get excited,” George replied. “For my secret is concerning her.” “Ah? then you were really smitten by the jade? I saw you were quite attentive, but I never believed that she had added your name to her list of victims. And is that the reason of your long exile in foreign lands?” “Partly so, yes. But not just as you imagine. I did not love Helen Lawson, but I do love Mrs. Fred Archer.” “The—deuce! I did not know you had ever met the lady since her marriage.” “Neither have I.” “And yet you say you love her!” | “Shall I relate the story of my passion to you now? Do you think you are sufficiently cool to hear it? Shall I order a seltzer for you first ?” EORNIELOOOLS (E(@)