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

"The Yellow Crayon"


"Change the subject."
Mr. Sabin bowed.
"You are very considerate--to the Prince," he said.
"It is perhaps for your sake," she answered. "And as for the Prince
--well, you know, or you should know, for how much he counts with
me."
Mr. Sabin glanced at her curiously. She was a little flushed as
though with some inward excitement. Her eyes were bright and soft.
Despite a certain angularity of figure and her hollow cheeks she was
certainly one of the most distinguished-looking women in the room.
"You are so dense," she whispered in his ear, "wilfully dense,
perhaps. You will not understand that I wish to be your friend."
He smiled with gentle deprecation.
"Do you blame me," he murmured, "if I seem incredulous? For I am
an old man, and you are spoken of always as the friend of my enemy,
the friend of the Prince."
"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if this is really the secret
of your mistrust? Do you indeed fear that I have no other interest
in life save to serve Saxe Leinitzer?"
"As to that," he answered, "I cannot say. Yet I know that only a
few months ago you were acting under orders from him. It is you
who brought Lucille from America. It was through you that the first
blow was struck at my happiness."
"Cannot I atone?" she murmured under her breath. "If I can I will.


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