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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Yellow Crayon"

I can
never quite tell what you are going to do or say. As a husband I
am almost sure that you would be monotonous. But then, how could
you avoid it? It is madness to think of destroying a pleasant
friendship in such a manner."
"You are mocking me," he said sadly.
"Well," she said, "why not? Your own proposal is a mockery."
"A mockery! My proposal!"
"Yes," she answered steadily. "You know quite well that the very
thought of such a thing between you and me is an absurdity. I
abhor your politics, I detest your party. You are ambitious, I
know. You intend to be Prime Minister, a people's Prime Minister.
Well, for my part, I hate the people. I am an aristocrat. As
your wife I should be in a perfectly ridiculous position. How
foolish! You have led me into talking of this thing seriously.
Let us forget all this rubbish."
He stood before her--waiting patiently, his mouth close set, his
manner dogged with purpose.
"It is not rubbish," he said. "It is true that I shall be Prime
Minister. It is true also that you will be my wife."
She shrank back from him--uneasily. The fire in his eyes, the
ring in his tone distressed her.
"As for my politics, you do not understand them. But you shall! I
will convert you to my way of thinking. Yes, I will do that. The
cause of the people, of freedom, is the one great impulse which
beats through all the world.


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