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

"The Yellow Crayon"

"
"A man," he answered, "is not easily whispered out of Paradise."
She laughed at him.
"Ah, it is so easy," she said, "to know that your youth was spent
at a court."
"There is only one court," he answered, "where men learn to speak
the truth."
She leaned back in her chair.
"Oh, you are incorrigible," she said softly. "The one role in life
in which I fancied you ill at ease you seem to fill to perfection."
"And that?"
"You are an adorable husband!"
"I should like," he said, "a better opportunity to prove it!"
"Let us hope," she murmured, "that our separation is nearly over.
I shall appeal to the Prince to-night. My remaining at Dorset
House is no longer necessary."
"I shall come," he said, "and demand you in person."
She shook her head.
"No! They would not let you in, and it would make it more
difficult. Be patient a little longer."
He came and sat by her side. She leaned over to meet his embrace.
"You make patience," he murmured, "a torture!"
* * * * *
Mr. Sabin walked home to his rooms late in the afternoon, well
content on the whole with his day. He was in no manner prepared
for the shock which greeted him on entering his sitting-room.
Duson was leaning back in his most comfortable easy-chair.
"Duson!" Mr.


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