The Wreck of the South Pole and Other Strange Tales — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

A Chicago Romance. 209 years and Chicago society was very much astonished that she kept her word with him.” “Where were you?” IJ asked. “Well, old boy,” he replied. “As I am in the confes- sional box I may as well acknowledge that I believe she married Fred out of pique, in hopes of reinstating her pride and showing me she was trying to deceive me also.” “Slightly egotistic,” I said, “but I can understand your feelings and pardon it.” “All right!” he answered. “For two years I thought of Helen Lawson in that way. The third I began to imagine her as really loving me—of the glorious possi- bilities in her—of what she might have developed into had she married the man she loved. Then I censured myself for my heartlessness (I was in India then), and during the seven years which have followed I have loved 39 her. “And you have never seen her?” “No. A month ago I heard that Fred was dead, and I came back at once. To-morrow I call upon her and will ask her to be my wife. Dine with me here to-mor- row night and we will drink to the health of the future Mrs. Danvers.” * * * * *K *K * *x The next evening I kept my appointment with George. The dinner was more elaborate than the previous .one, and I saw that my host had a superb bottle of wine at his right hand. Conmniclooolk (SO)