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

"The Yellow Crayon"

The other days are over and done with now. I am on
the defensive and hard pressed."
Her face was bright with sympathy. She forgot everything except her
old admiration for him. In the clashing of their wills the victory
had remained with her. And as for those things which he had done,
the cause at least had been a great one. Her happiness had come to
her through him. She bore him no grudge for that fierce opposition
which, after all, had been fruitless.
"I believe you, UNCLE," she said affectionately. "If I can help
you in any way I will."
"This Mr. Brott! He goes very little into society, I believe."
"Scarcely ever," she answered. "He came to us because my husband
is one of the few Radical peers."
"You have not heard of any recent change in him--in this respect?"
"Well, I did hear Wolfendon chaffing him the other day about
somebody," she said. "Oh, I know. He has been going often to the
Duchess of Dorset's. He is such an ultra Radical, you know, and
the Dorsets are fierce Tories. Wolfendon says it is a most unwise
thing for a good Radical who wants to retain the confidence of the
people to be seen about with a Duchess."
"The Duchess of Dorset," Mr. Sabin remarked, "must be, well--a
middle-aged woman."
Helene laughed.
"She is sixty if she is a day. But I daresay she herself is not
the attraction.


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