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

"The Yellow Crayon"

James.
I believe the aristocracy are looking forward to the possibility of
my coming into power with something like terror."
"I am not thoroughly versed; in the politics of this country," the
Prince said, "but I have always understood that your views were
very much advanced. Dorset solemnly believes that you are pledged
to exterminate the large landed proprietors, and I do not think he
would be surprised to hear that you had a guillotine up your sleeve."
The two men were strolling along Pall Mall. The Prince had lit a
large cigar, and was apparently on the best of terms with himself
and the world in general. Brott, on the contrary, was most unlike
himself, preoccupied, and apparently ill at ease.
"The Duke and his class are, of course, my natural opponents," Brott
said shortly. "By the bye, Prince," he added, suddenly turning
towards him, and with a complete change of tone, "it is within your
power to do me a favour."
"You have only to command," the Prince assured him good-naturedly.
"My rooms are close here," Brott continued. "Will you accompany
me there, and grant me the favour of a few minutes' conversation?"
"Assuredly!" the Prince answered, flicking the end off his cigar.
"It will be a pleasure."
They walked on towards their destination in silence. Brott's
secretary was in the library with a huge pile of letters and
telegrams before him.


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