dBooks desire

Pen with ineffable good-humor took a glass--he didn't mind what it
was--he was content to drink after the ladies; and he filled it with
frothing lukewarm beer, which he pronounced to be delicious, and which
he drank cordially to the health of the party.
As he was drinking and talking on in an engaging manner, a young lady
in a shot dove-colored dress, with a white parasol lined with pink,
and the prettiest dove-colored boots that ever stepped, passed by Pen,
leaning on the arm of a stalwart gentleman with a military mustache.
The young lady clenched her little fist, and gave a mischievous
side-look as she passed Pen. He of the mustaches burst out into a
jolly laugh. He had taken off his hat to the ladies of cab No. 2002.
You should have seen Fanny Bolton's eyes watching after the
dove-colored young lady. Immediately Huxter perceived the direction
which they took, they ceased looking after the dove-colored nymph, and
they turned and looked into Sam Huxter's orbs with the most artless
good-humored expression.


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