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

"The Yellow Crayon"

"
The little man had a compelling manner. Lucille made her way
towards the elevator.
"As a matter of fact," she murmured bitterly, "I am not, I suppose,
permitted to leave the hotel?"
"Madam puts the matter bluntly," he answered; "but certainly if
you should insist upon leaving, it would be my duty to follow you."
She turned away from him and entered the elevator. The door of
her room was slightly ajar, and she saw that a waiter was busy at
a small round table. She looked at him in surprise. He was
arranging places for two.
"Who gave you your orders?" she asked.
"But it was monsieur," the man answered, with a low bow. "Dinner
for two."
"Monsieur?" she repeated. "What monsieur?"
"I am the culprit," a familiar voice answered from the depths of
an easy-chair, whose back was to her. "I was very hungry, and it
occurred to me that under the circumstances you would probably not
have dined either. I hope that you will like what I have ordered.
The plovers' eggs look delicious."
She gave a little cry of joy. It was Mr. Sabin.

CHAPTER XLII
The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite.
Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the
lounge. Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his
side.
"Monsieur!" she whispered.


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