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

"A Prince of Sinners"

"
He stood before her--a little insistent.
"I shall expect you at half-past four," he said.
She shook her head.
Oh, no. I have an engagement."
"The next day, then."
"Thank you! I would rather you did not ask me. I have a great deal to
do just now. I will bring the girls to the lecture."
"Wednesday week," he protested, "is a long way off."
"You can go over to Enton," she laughed, "and get some more cheques from
your wonderful friend."
"I wonder," he remarked, "why you dislike Lord Arranmore so much."
"Instinct perhaps--or caprice," she answered, lightly.
"The latter for choice," he answered. "I don't think that he is a man
to dislike instinctively. He rather affected me the other way."
She was suddenly graver.
"It is foolish of me," she remarked. "You will think so too, when I
tell you that my only reason is because of a likeness."
"A likeness!" he repeated.
She nodded.
"He is exactly like a man who was once a friend of my father's, and who
did him a great deal of harm. My father was much to blame, I know, but
this man had a great influence over him, and a most unfortunate one.


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