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

"The Yellow Crayon"

"If you want
me for an enemy you can have me. Very likely I shall tell you
before long that you can do what you like with the man. But until
I do it will be very dangerous for you if harm comes to him."
"It is no use," he answered doggedly. "If he attacks he must be
silenced."
"If he attacks," she answered, "you must give me twenty-four hours
clear notice before you move a hand against him. Afterwards--well,
we will discuss that."
"You had better," he said, looking at her with an ugly gleam in his
eyes, "persuade him to take you for a little tour on the Continent.
It would be safer."
"If he would come," she said coolly, "I would go to-morrow. But he
won't--just yet. Never mind. You have heard what I wanted to say.
Now shall we go? I am going to get some sleep this afternoon.
Everybody tells me that I look like a ghost."
"Why not come to Grosvenor Square with me?" he leaning a little
across the table. "Patoff shall make you some Russian tea, and
afterwards you shall sleep as long as you like."
"How idyllic!" she answered, with a faint sarcastic smile. "It
goes to my heart to decline so charming an invitation. But, to
tell you the truth, it would bore me excessively."
He muttered something under his breath which startled the waiter at
his elbow. Then he followed her out of the room.


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