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

"The Yellow Crayon"


Sabin as from some unholy thing. Lady Carey had fallen back across
her chair. Her hand was still pressed to her side, and her face
was very pale. A nervous little laugh broke from her lips.

CHAPTER XXX
Mr. Sabin found a fourth chair, and calmly seated himself by
Lucille's side. But his eyes were fixed upon Lady Carey. She
was slowly recovering herself, but Mr. Sabin, who had never
properly understood her attitude towards him, was puzzled at the
air of intense relief which almost shone in her face.
"You seem--all of you," he remarked suavely, "to have found the
music a little exciting. Wagner certainly knew how to find his
way to the emotions. Or perhaps I interrupted an interesting
discussion?"
Lucille smiled gently upon him.
"These two," she said, looking from the Prince to Lady Carey, "seem
to have been afflicted with a sudden nervous excitement, and yet I do
not think that they are, either of them, very susceptible to music."
Lady Carey leaned forward, and looked at him from behind the large
fan of white feathers which she was lazily fluttering before her face.
"Your entrance," she murmured, "was most opportune, besides being
very welcome. The Prince and I were literally--on the point of
flying at one another's throats."
Mr. Sabin glanced at his neighbour and smiled.


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