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

"The Yellow Crayon"

Brott, who had scarcely moved.
"Have you seen anything of her?" she asked.
He shook his head gloomily.
"No! It is too late for her to come now, isn't it?"
"Take me somewhere where we can talk," she said abruptly. "One of
those seats in the recess will do."
He obeyed her, and they found a retired corner. Lady Carey wasted
no time in fencing.
"I am Lucille's greatest friend, Mr. Brott, and her confidante,"
she said.
He nodded.
"So I have understood."
"She tells me everything."
He glanced towards her a little uneasily.
"That is comprehensive!" he remarked.
"It is true," she answered. "Lucille has told me a great deal about
your friendship! Come, there is no use in our mincing words.
Lucille has been badly treated years ago, and she has a perfect
right to seek any consolation she may find. The old fashioned
ideas, thank goodness, do not hold any longer amongst us. It is
not necessary to tie yourself for life to a man in order to procure
a little diversion."
"I will not pretend to misunderstand you, Lady Carey," he said
gravely, "but I must decline to discuss the Countess of Radantz in
connection with such matters."
"Oh, come!" she declared impatiently; "remember that I am her
friend. Yours is quite the proper attitude, but with me it doesn't
matter. Now I am going to ask you a plain question.


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