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

"The Yellow Crayon"


She laid her hand upon his shoulder.
"Reginald," she said, "you are like the whirlwind--and how can I
answer you in five minutes!"
"You can answer me in one," he declared fiercely. "Will you pay my
price if I do your bidding? Yes or no! The price is yourself. Now!
Yes or no?"
She drew on her own cloak and fastened the clasp
with shaking fingers. Then she turned towards the
door.
"I wish you good-bye and good fortune, Reginald," she said. "I
daresay we may not meet again. It will be better that we do not."
"This then is your answer?" he cried.
She looked around at him. Was it his fancy, or were those tears
in her eyes? Or was she really so wonderful an actress?
"Do you think," she said, "that if I had not cared I should have
come here?"
"Tell me that in plain words," he cried. "It is all I ask."
The door was suddenly opened. Grahame stood upon the threshold.
He looked beyond Lucille to Brott.
"You must really forgive me," he said, "but there is barely time
to catch the train, Brott. I have a hansom waiting, and your
luggage is on."
Brott answered nothing. Lucille held out her hands to him.
"Yes or no?" he asked her in a low hoarse tone.
"You must--give me time! I don't want to lose you. I--"
He caught up his coat.
"Coming, Grahame," he said firmly.


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